


Loyalty - a fine line between being a chauvinist or a traitor

by Gavala



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn, but its been forever since i read the books, house change, i tried to make it accurate to both books and movies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-09-27 15:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17164583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gavala/pseuds/Gavala
Summary: Loyalty, In Draco Malfoy's case, is a fine line which teeters him between being a chauvinist or a traitor.Specifically, it's turned him into a traitor.---A canon-divergence AU in which Draco gets a house change from Slytherin to Gryffindor in his fifth year at Hogwarts. I give a very brief and terrible explanation as to how that goes about.What starts off as 'my father will hear about this' turns into 'oh shit if my father hears about this' and antics ensue. After yeeting on Professor Umbridge, Draco then proceeds to piss off the entire house of Slytherin, co-found Dumbledore's Army, and become a Gryffindor Chaser. He also may or may not have betrayed his whole family, become a spy for the Order, killed a Horcrux, and snogged Harry Potter.You know, just the works.---Rated T for language- not much else though!This fiction is intended to be more for fun than accuracy or realism. My choices as an author are not always the most expected of the characters. If you do not appreciate or like that sort of thing, then I encourage you to read something else.Tl;Dr - Don't like, don't tell me, I don't care.





	1. Draco gets destroyed by a hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco recieves a letter from the famed school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
> He hasn't done anything wrong- he thinks- so he simply follows the instructions of the letter. 
> 
> What happens to be waiting for him is a stupid hat and some old teachers who clearly don't like him.  
> That, and a red uniform. (Which he does not want.)

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  _ Why had the school sent him an owl so close to the new semester? _ He asked himself. A pale fingle ran across the parchment, and he read the green ink over and over in his mind. He’d heard of students being called in early… however what could they possibly need from him? Didn’t they know his family was a busy one?

 

“I heard the owl, dear. What is it?” His mother said softly as she entered the foyer, heels clicking against the polished marble floors. He looked up to her with confusion in his eyes. “What is it, Draco?” She repeated, this time with more haste. She was quick to assume it was something very terrible.

 

He held up the folded letter and presented her with the wax seal. “They’ve requested my presence at the school before the term.” He explained. “I can’t imagine why, I’ve done nothing wrong.” 

He set the letter down firmly on the glossy black table, his mother’s piercing eyes watched every movement.

 

She finally let out a sigh and cleared her throat. “I’m sure it’s simply formalities or something of the sort. You know how the world’s been since… Last year.” She stopped herself after that- but Draco knew what she meant. She was talking about the accident at Hogwarts last year. 

 

“When will father be returning today?” Draco then asked, following her into the living room. “He’s never been so busy with work. He hardly comes back before dusk.” He added. The accident caused it as well- he presumed- the insanely long hours where Draco knew his father was toiling away because of whatever the hell happened in that maze last year during the Triwizard Tournament. 

 

“I don’t know, Draco. He told me he has a long business trip planned soon. You know he’s working hard.” She sits down on the expensive armchair, gazing out the window.

 

Draco nods, blonde hair falling into his face and stands silent. He watches his mother as she sits down- face pale. She worried about him- about everything. He didn’t know what to think, what to say. The entire wizarding world was alight with the death of Cedric Diggory, and because of what that damned fool Harry Potter said. He’d tried to ignore it- but that was a difficult thing to do when your father worked for the ministry.

 

_ ‘To Hell with the Dark Lord coming back.’ _ He thought. _ ‘To Hell with whatever Dumbledore said in defense of that half-blooded prick.’  _ He dipped his head to his mother briefly before bounding up the winding stairwell. _ ‘It’s all just a stupid plot.’ _ He reached the door to his own room, which he flung open with extra indignation, and scanned the letter one last time.

 

A summons to the castle a week before September 1st. He was to arrive by the Floo network to Hogsmeade at 2pm tomorrow. No later than 3. He was expected to bring his trunk, and he’d be staying at the castle for the whole week.  _ ‘Oh joy.’ _ He rolled his eyes and kicked the side of his trunk, which popped the top of it open, and reviewed the contents.  _ ‘Looks to be in place.’  _ He noted with extra exasperation, eyes falling over glass phials and green neckties.

 

He took the trunk down to the fireplace and left the note on the table for his father to read, then returned to his room. The idea of going back to school was tiring enough, but gluing on another week in such short notice made him feel exhausted to even consider. 

 

The night and subsequent morning arrived faster than Draco had wanted, and before he knew it, he was standing in the large fireplace. “Make sure to write to me. I’ll send Minuit at least twice a month.” His mother said, grasping his arm firmly. “I love you, Draco. Don’t do anything reckless this year.”

 

Draco nodded, and gave her one last hug of reassurance. She was always like this at Kings Cross, right before he’d get on the train. “I’ll write to you once I’ve settled at Hogwarts, okay?” He heaved the large trunk into the fireplace with him and took grasp of a handful of floo powder. With the toss of his wrist and the word “Hogsmeade!” uttered from his mouth, he disappeared in a cloud of green fire.

 

\--

 

Draco Malfoy arrived at the gates of the castle at 2pm sharp, where a very disgruntled Flitch took his trunk and directed him to Dumbledore’s office. He boarded the thestral cart that had been brought specifically for him, and slowly made his way towards the towering destination.

 

The empty courtyard and echoing hallways were unsettling to Draco, his pale hand tracing the bricks of the walls as he made his way through the castle. Every now and again he’d run into a professor, who simply acknowledged his existence and continued on their way, and he’d catch glimpses of students. He assumed these were summer students, or special cases, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

 

Eventually, he’d ascended all the way to the headmaster’s tower, met with the face of a gargoyle. He couldn’t possibly know the password, so he looked around- hoping to find a teacher or someone to explain just what exactly was going on. He still didn’t know why he was here. Within a few moments of standing lost at the door of the headmaster’s office, the sound of clicking heels approached from the west hall. He turned his head to examine, and was met with the face of Minerva McGonagall.

 

“Professor McGonagall.” He stated flatly. “Do you know why I was summoned here?” She slowed her pace as she reached the door, eyes staring down at Draco.

 

“I do.” She started. “I wrote and sent the letter for Dumbledore.” She faced the gargoyle and the uttered the password in a hushed voice.

 

“Do you mind telling me then?” He crossed his arms. “My family is an extremely busy one, I’m sure you know.” 

 

“If you would just follow me, all will be explained very shortly, Malfoy.” She began walking up the stairs with no further explanation, so Draco held himself from any further remarks.

 

As he climbed the stairs, he made way to the circular office, books and oddities piled high amongst other things drew his attention up and down the large room. The candles shook as he entered, a phoenix perched atop one of the masses of clutter eyed him, turning his head slowly to size him up. The paintings all seemed to grow slightly agitated as he followed behind McGonagall.

 

He stopped once he reached the centermost point of the office, and took note of the stool which sat in front of him. McGonagall settled next to two other professors, Flitwick and Sprout, and their concentration of the headmaster. Dumbledore was scanning the shelves behind his desk with seemingly no rush.

 

"Why on earth was I summoned here?" Draco finally demanded, arms crossed and voice brash. “I received a letter from the school only to be met with a bunch of teachers and a stool? I demand some sort of explanation."

 

"Your actions these preceding 4 years have come to our attention, Mr Malfoy.” Dumbledore dictated quite loudly in the almost silent room. “It was suggested by one of our own Heads of Houses for a vote, of sorts.”

 

“A Vote?” Draco cautioned. “A vote to what? Expel me?”

 

“No, Malfoy. You aren’t being expelled.” He let out a small, short lived laugh before pulling a leathery tome out from the shelf he had been pondering over, setting it on his desk. “You see, there are rules in place which allow us to take action over a student. The suggestion that came upon you was pitched as both a punishment… and a rehabilitation.”

 

_ ‘Rehabilitation? What the hell is he talking about?’ _ Draco’s face twisted up into a confused expression, body automatically backing up in reaction.

 

“I can see you’re confused, Malfoy. Please remain calm.” He sat down in his large chair and opened the book, hand running across the pages until he found a bookmarked section. “It states here that a student may undergo extreme types of displacement and rehabilitation if three of four of current heads of houses vote for the proposition, and is approved by a headmaster. This type of punishment may only be enacted if it has been determined and deemed appropriate and fair by all authorities involved. The inclusion of outside forces such as Governors or parents may be overridden by this rule.”

 

“I don’t quite understand.” Draco said. “You keep mentioning rehabilitation… punishment… displacement.” He continued to back up into his body bumped into the wall. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

 

The entire room fell silent again. "Yes, that brings us to  _ that _ .” He says, clearing his throat. Draco felt his concern rising. ‘ _ What the hell could they possibly be planning?’ _

 

"If you could sit down here, on the stool." McGonagall nudged him over. "The proposed rehabilitation that we voted on requires an extreme change of physical location and social geography. Changing such factors, we believe, will help you in the long run."

 

"What on earth do you mean?" His voice raised again slightly. He felt like a cornered child. He sat down nervously and his eyes continued to dart around the room, trying to discern what they were about to do to him.

 

Dumbledore began to speak again, motioning with his hands as Professor Sprout appeared, holding a familiar hat which grumbled to itself with a loud disdain. "We all believe that your actions from these past few years can be remedied with the permanent rehousing, which is a punishment we seldom rely on." He gestured to the hat as it neared the center of the room.

 

"Are you mad?!" He exclaimed quickly. "You can't rehouse students! Tha-That can't be done!" He backed away from the stool with furious speed, his mind already beginning to think of every possible way that he could refute them.

 

"Actually, on the contrary." Professor Sprout, the Hufflepuff Head, piped up. "What Dumbledore read to you was the rule that the founders put in place specifically for situations like this. This is completely within our jurisdiction as teachers."

 

After a long, and terribly winded argument in which Draco yelled a lot and the teachers patiently tried to reason with him, he was sat down on the stool with a red face and a headache. "Just wait until my father hears about this. You know very well that my family would  _ never _ allow something like this to happen!" Even though he seethed these words, he knew his father wouldn't hear about this for months, knowing how busy he was. He had the business trip coming up… So it would be quite a while before anything could truly be done. “Couldn’t you have just given me a proper punishment? I’d rather go into the forbidden forest every day for the entire semester than… that!” He pointed towards the hat accusingly.

 

They all frowned, watching Dumbledore approach him slowly. "We, as teachers, decided this based on what we thought would be the most beneficial to your future. Sending you to the forbidden forest wouldn’t do you much good, would it?"

Draco refused to answer the headmaster, and simply crossed his arms for what felt like the millionth time.  _ ‘Just get this over with so I can fix it.’ _ The old leathery hat was placed on his head, and the immediate feeling of invasion made him sick.

 

"A true Slytherin, his family only further supports it." The hat grumbled aloud. "It's difficult to see anything past that, he’s the perfect example of a pure Slytherin student."

 

Draco closed his mind up as much as he could as the hat talked. If the hat couldn't place his second house he wouldn't move, right? The hat only scowled, and he could hear it complaining.

"If you close your mind 4 off like this you're just wasting everyone's time. I'll still break through, no matter how stubborn you are, Malfoy." The room fell silent again, and Draco felt his mind being prodded and poked at, he felt uncomfortable. 

 

_ ‘Just leave me in Slytherin, where I belong. I’d rather die than be sorted in with those other… houses.’ _ He pleaded.

 

The hat mumbled again, so quiet that only Draco could hear it. "Ah, finally something to work with." it paused again. "A short-temper I should most definitely note. Not a surprise given how hard it was to get you seated. Ah, and let's not forget to mention your devotion to your family. To your house. Truly the epitome of loyalty towards what you believe in." After shifting for a moment, it whispered to Draco. "I have a feeling, but I can't be too sure. You're almost 100% Slytherin, it seems."  

 

_ ‘Almost? Damned hat.’ _ Draco felt he was being ridiculed every moment he sat in this office, the heads of houses watching patiently as the silence hung over them all.

 

"What house do you desire?" It then asked, "Perhaps your judgement will help me in my decision. Your opinion is just as important, after all."

 

‘ _ Slytherin.’ _ He immediately responded.

 

The hat gave a gruff sigh. "Try again, Malfoy. Your fate has already been decided. There’s no going back as it stands."

 

_ ‘Ravenclaws are ignorant and self-righteous, I find their methods of success far too reliant on simply knowing the facts and not understanding the concepts. Hufflepuffs are just plain stupid, I’m pretty sure. I’ve never met a Hufflepuff I actually liked. -Don’t even get me started on Gryffindor.’ _ He felt like he was complaining to Pansy now.

 

"Well, what would you have me do about all of that?" The hat simply retorted. “I can’t change your… inaccurate… descriptions of the houses.”

 

_ ‘You can’t possibly ask me to choose between them. They’re all equally terrible compared to Slytherin. This entire situation is terrible.’ _ He crossed his arms in anger as the hat shifted, sighing.

 

"You're a stubborn blight you know?" It quickly remarked. Draco for a second reached up to toss the hat but Dumbledore tapped his desk as if to remind him they were present. He restrained himself.

 

_ ‘You said you already had an idea right? Just skip the shit and rehouse me so I can fix it sooner rather than later.’ _

 

He knew, for sure, that if the sorting hat was given the option, it would definitely be Ravenclaw. He didn't have any other traits that could possibly put him anywhere else when disregarding Slytherin. He didn’t like Ravenclaw, but he knew that’s what was about to be uttered from the hat’s damn mouth.

 

"I see. In that case." Its voice fell much more serious, calling out into the room, readying itself to finally choose and release the tension that flowed through the room. "I suppose…" It paused again, thinking, prodding at his mind one last second.

 

"Draco Malfoy, formerly sorted into the house of Slytherin, will now and henceforth be placed in Gryffindor." 

 

The moment the words left the hat's enchanted folds, Draco ripped the hat off and threw it to the ground. The two other head of houses that were present were quietly dismissed by the Headmaster and McGonagall faced Draco, holding her hands up.

 

"Absolutely not!" He hissed. "I refused to be placed in that godforsaken hell-hole!" His voice was shaky purely from shock. "There is no way- absolutely NO WAY that my second house was Gryffindor!” His previous statement over Ravenclaw was completely, utterly, and wholeheartedly incorrect.

 

McGonagall peered over to Dumbledore, her face twisting into a scowl as Draco’s anger rose. Dumbledore only moved his head, as if to encourage her.

 

"No matter, Draco. You're apart of my house now, and you will hold yourself with some dignity." She turned to face him fully. “You must carry on these 3 years as a Gryffindor. While it may be, as it stands, degrading to you or your family, we all firmly believe that this will have a positive effect on your future." Draco, who fell silent, refused to face her. "The sorting hat has chosen, and you must face these punishments if you wish to continue your education and subsequently, your wizarding career."

 

He bit his lip and turned, his body facing towards her but his face did not raise. "As soon as my father is reached, this will all be over." He spat.

 

She sighed, before turning on her heel to a table where 3 boxes had been set, inside the box that she held with tentative care were a set of Gryffindor Robes fit for Draco,  specially made for the occasion. She handed him the box and then gently pushed him towards the door.

 

"I expect this change to help you, Draco," Dumbledore said before they reached the arch. "Rather than fretting over this- try perhaps- to take this time to your advantage to get help. That's why we're here, of course. All you have to do is ask." Draco didn’t even bother reacting, simply staring blankly at the box.

 

They left Dumbledore's office after that. Draco remained silent the entire way. _ ‘My father will sort this out. Everything will be okay. He’ll come and fix this just like he has in the past. These damn teachers can’t keep it like this forever.’  _ He kept trying to reassure himself, telling himself that This wasn't happening to him. This was a huge, complicated dream and he would wake up in his bed at his summer home. That everything would be alright.

 

Of course, he wasn’t too sure of anything in that very moment, simply following behind Mcgonagall with a blank expression plastered across his face as they walked through the corridors of the castle. Ascending and descending the staircases, turning corners, they reached the main tower. The painfully tall maze of moving stones made him feel even more sick.

He’d never imagine having to climb as many stairs as he did, seeing as the Gryffindor common room just  _ had _ to be in the godforsaken heavens of the castle, and when they finally reached the large painting which hung against the stone wall.

 

"You'll have to excuse any mess in the common room. My summer students tend to be rowdy at times. I'll show you through the dormitories and the common spaces, and help you to get your stuff situated in your dorm." McGonagall said. 

 

He grasped the box tightly as they approached the painting that was decorated finely with golden trim and reds. Upon closer arrival, the painting looked down at Draco with something he couldn’t exactly place. He felt very out of place already.

 

"This year's password is Ulesiss Invard. Be sure to remember it." The painting creaked open at the mention of the passcode, but before he could take a step into the hall, he could hear students. He shrunk up and stopped. He already looked- and felt- outlandish. Compared to the Gryffindors he had seen, he was about as opposite as one could possibly achieve. He would usually consider that a positive reflection, but right now it would just make him stick out sorely. 

 

He didn’t want to be seen, McGonagall concluded. "They aren't out here, they're in the back common room. The sound travels, however. Don't worry." She tried reassuring him. At her words, he was able to bite back his pride and take a step into the hall which led to the common room, but the grip on the box in his hands only got tighter. He couldn’t deal with the sheer embarrassment so early on.

 

McGonagall only continued walking into the Common room, and Draco paused for a moment, taking in what sights no other Slytherin would get to see. 

 

The tall walls and vaulted ceilings were marbled stone and beige colours. The ceiling was draped in beautiful and lavish reds and golds, and large golden lanterns and candles floated effortlessly across the ceiling space. 

The dark oak floor was covered in a collection of deep red rugs that felt soft with each step, creaking as he continued to slowly make his way in. The towering room was large, almost larger than the main commons of the Slytherin House.

The dark oak tables and chairs were placed almost half hazardly, while still maintaining an organised chaos, and the stuffy red sofas and the chairs that were lined with pillows and blankets were many in number. The grand fireplace was lit, paintings of warm hues lined the walls that were covered in various peeling red wallpapers and tapestries.

 

Draco noted the opening in between the wall and the other side of the fireplace. Another tower room- smaller than the main one he noted. It looked to have more tables, bookcases and the like. He could only see what was visible in between the flame and the marble, and he could tell that's where the summer students were. 

He turned his back to the fireplace, where he saw two more towers, both had dark oak staircases spiralling up, connecting at the top by a balcony which was decorated with more shelves and seats. More banners, tapestries, and drapes hung along the linings of the rails.

 

_ ‘It was an absolute mess when compared to the Slytherin commons, however, it didn't necessarily feel dirty or chaotic. It felt… Lived in?’ _ Draco stood in awe of the large room, and couldn’t exactly place what he was feeling. He couldn't exactly pinpoint it, and it was confusing to him how students could live in the red and gold mess that was this… common area. However, he fell silent again. He couldn't muster a single word.

  
McGonagall waited until Draco was seemingly done with his awestruck gaze, and began to walk towards the sets of spiral staircases opposite of the fireplace.

 

"The girl's dorms are on the left, Boys on the right. As you ascend the stairs you meet multiple floors of Dorms. You'll be in room number 5. The respective bathrooms are downstairs." She then said, gesturing to the different areas she mentioned. "Unlike Slytherin, where there are usually 2-3 beds per room, you'll be rooming with 4 other Students."

 

Draco, in his thoughts, was trying to process the experience of being roommates with four Gryffindors. He shuddered. Not only at the thought of his.. Living conditions.. But also of the sheer embarrassment of being placed in the dorm with time. He hoped the people he was going to be forced to live with until his father sorted everything out were tolerable, relatively speaking, and that it could easily be sorted out.

 

McGonagall led him up the right set stairs and stopped as they reached the fifth floor. She held up a small golden key, which opened the door. "Each member of this room will have a key. Do not lose it under any circumstance." She warned.

They entered the room, which was a decently sized circular space with 5 beds placed evenly along the walls. Wardrobes and desks lined the empty room between the beds, a set for each bed, and there was empty space for trunks and personal belongings. In the middle, there was a large heater. 

 

"This bed right here is yours. The rooming situation has been a little odd this year..." She pointed to one that rested up against an enclave of the wall and had a window next to it. "Your stuff will be here shortly, I’d imagine within a couple of hours… and you will be rooming with.." She pulled a parchment from her robes. "Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Ronald Weasley, and…" She paused.

 

_ ‘Ronald Weasley. Of course, something had to go wrong. Of course, I was going to get stuck with a damn Weasley.’ _ He scoffed for a moment, but didn’t say anything. 

 

"Your fourth roommate, coincidentally, is..." She seemed surprised by her own list. "Harry Potter."

Draco clenched his fists again but stayed silent. He bit the inside of his mouth in order to silence himself and looked away. "There's nothing I can do to stop this, is there?” He asked simply.

 

McGonagall shook her head. "Don’t you think it’s time to put your differences aside with them and bury whatever grievances you have with them?" She folded up her list, watching Draco.

 

Draco, through clenched teeth, took a deep breath. "I don’t think that something like that is possible, Professor." He approached his bed and sat down. "For the sake of the education I know my parents want me to get, I’ll play along with this stupidity. All in due time, my father will fix this." 

 

She handed Draco a small stack of papers, his key, and moved towards the door.  "Play nice until then," she said, with a slightly sarcastic tone. "...as I'm not sure when… or if your father will be able to assert himself."  She looked at him with a stern expression and sighed, then closed the door and left Draco to his devices, sitting in the circular dorm room where he'd be spending some time- _ until everything was fixed _ \- he thought.

 

Just the idea of sharing the same breathing space as Potter or Weasley, or both, was sickening to him. The idea of the whole situation was absolutely terrible- and he'd have to wait for his family to fix it all. He knew he couldn't just drop out of school- he'd be ridiculed in his family and possibly disowned. He couldn't fix the situation himself either. He could only painfully wait for the outcome of a punishment he didn't deserve. That just made it all the more frustrating for him. 

Potter deserved to be put in his place, an arrogant half-blood who somehow had everything. He had the damn Champion title, the damn love of every teacher in a 10-mile radius, save for Professor Snape, and he walked around flaunting his mediocre pedigree like he meant something. Like anything he did meant anything.

 

The week where he was forced to stay in an almost empty Hogwarts was uneventful at best. He was able to evade all interaction with any Gryffindors, and very often found himself in the Great Hall or riding a set of stairs to ignore the elephant in the room, and in his mind. McGonagall, for the most part, left him to his own devices. She didn't make him do anything, nor did she make any effort to push the idea of rehabilitation on him. She would occasionally spot him in the halls wandering, or in one of the dozens of studies, or in the library. She would sometimes ask if he was getting acquainted with the other Gryffindor members that were already there.

He would, of course, in a variety of responses, ignore her and attempt to insult her politely. 

 

The dreaded day that Draco was stressing over was almost here, however. The first day of the official semester.

 

While there were a few kids already at the school, taking extra classes or simply there because of personal reasons, once the first day arrived, there would be hundreds of kids roaming the halls and bearing witness to him in red. He hated every second of the notion. He couldn’t possibly live with the shame, now that he had time to think about it.

 

Only a day before the semester began, he sat holed up in his bed. He didn’t want to move, or do anything. He just wanted to sit there in dismay.

 

McGonagall had to ruin that, however, when she knocked on the door gently.

 

“Good afternoon.” She said flatly, examining him as he pulled another blanket over himself. “Tomorrow is the first day of school. I’ll remind you to attend all classes and be back in the dorms by 8. Remember to meet your Prefect officer as well.” She approached the bed and pat the wooden post.

 

“Is that all?” Draco spat under the muffled covers.

 

“I should also remind you that all students are required to ride the train, as it is both a longstanding tradition, and required by the Ministry of Magic. All summer students and Early arrivals are required to do this as well. I’d recommend you take the Floo Network down to Kings Cross tomorrow morning for the ride from Hogsmeade.” She gave the post one last affirming pat and left, Draco’s attitude making it clear he wanted to be left alone. 

 

He rolled his eyes and thought of the stupid train ride he was going to be forced to take. Every year they made them raide that dumb thing. It would be for more efficient to take the network or get there by literally any other means, but they’d rather him ride some muggle-made train across the countryside for almost 6 hours.  **Six hours.**

 

He realised that it would be difficult to hide himself in the train. He couldn’t just do what he’s done every year. He couldn’t possibly face his Slytherin friends while under the situation. He’d also have the robes to worry about- and the Thestral carts… and the feast, if he decided to attend the feast at all, that is.

 

If he could snag a compartment alone- he could lock away and stay on the down low. He could probably put off wearing on his uniform until last minute, hide away from the crowd when everyone left for the castle. He could probably hide away from the housing of first years and the celebratory feast that followed. 

 

But hiding could only get him so far- he'd have to check in with his prefects once a week- which required him to be in the commons. He'd have to return to the Gryffindor tower at 8 when curfew struck if he didn't want even more bullshit to deal with. He'd probably have to face his dreaded fucking roommates at one point or another, and he couldn't skip out on every meal to stay away from the long table where the rest of the damned Gryffindors sat. He was going to be under ‘rehabilitation,’ which meant he’d be accounted for in many situations where he’d usually be able to slip out.

 

No matter how he looked at it- he would have to face it all at some point- and it would be before his father came to sort the situation out.

He’d have to think of something,  _ anything _ , to keep him on the down-low for the next few weeks.

 

When he finally sat up from the large, frumpy bed he’d been hiding in all day, he noticed- to his dismay- that the trunks were in place for tomorrow. His dark black case with leather straps and green flourishes stood out from the traditional brown trunks. He could place out Weasley's from the lot, as it was yellowed with time and was tearing at the seams- it was just a bed over from his- and in between his own bed and Weasley's was Potters, if the large HP plastered on the top was any indicator.

 

The sight made Draco angry- he felt his head straining at the thought of it, so he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. _ ‘A few weeks, at worst. A couple days at best.’  _ He thought. _ ‘My father will have received my Owl by tomorrow, and this will all work out in my favour _ .’

Before he could really think much of it, he set himself an alarm and laid down. 

 

He had to admit- if there was a single thing that Gryffindor did right- objectively speaking- it was the bedding. The mattresses were far more comfortable than he expected, and the red and gold sheets that adorned the beds were soft and warm. The pillows were just right- everything felt good when he was asleep. Of course, that was just simply an observation.

 

He didn’t want to think about anything in that moment, and decided just sleeping would do him better than staying up with his thoughts would. The comfortable sheets made him drift quickly, and the cool draft that flowed in from the large windows made him feel surprisingly at ease.

  
  
He’d have to deal with it. No matter how much complaining he’d do- he knew it wouldn’t be resolved until his father received word. He just had to get through it. Tough it out for a couple days. It’s not like he was  _ actually _ going to stay in Gryffindor, after all. It was all temporary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Draco's father isn't in in the Ministry, my dumb brain though he was an unspeakable.  
> Now I'm just rolling with it so bare with me lads.
> 
> Also this entire chapter was a huge struggle-bus. I was having an aneurism trying to edit it.  
> Sorry guys ;')


	2. A very annoying start to a very annoying year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never thought he'd hate the stupid train ride to Hogwarts more than he did, but then again, Draco was getting surprise after surprise this week.  
> Harry, Ron, and Hermione are forced to share a compartment with him, a surprise he didn't like.  
> Then of course, there was Umbridge. A surprise he very much didn't like.
> 
> The question is: how long will he be able to keep it up? How long will it be until his father fixes everything?

When Draco Malfoy woke up the next morning- early in the day- he quickly exited the school, not wanting to risk exposure any sooner than need be. He hardly passed by any other teachers, much less students, on his way out. He was grateful for that, since it saved him the embarrassment for later.

He immediately headed for Hogsmeade floo network station, not wanting to waste any time with the semi-lengthy walk from the gates to the village. On the way down the path, his mind was still clouded with the dozens of thoughts and fears he had.  _ How long would it be like this? When would his father come to fix it? _ Not only that, but _ how long could he hide away? How long could he possibly play along with the ridiculous notion of being in Gryffindor? _

 

He carried a single box with his deaded uniform inside as he made his trek down to the town. Tucked under his arm, he hated to think about the contents inside. The red and gold uniform made him feel angry, if anything. Of course- in a couple hours he would be wearing it. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea of putting on the lion’s crest at the moment, so he pushed it to the back of his mind as he arrived to the network.

 

With the flick of his wrist and the toss of Floo Powder, he was met with the crowded, annoyingly loud scene of platform 9 ¾. He was early- so there were only first years in the station with their overly-excited families. He could easily scare a couple out of a compartment if he couldn't find an empty one.

 

He boarded quickly and ignored every face he saw- eventually locating an empty compartment. He wasn't used to the starchy seats or the dry air that the compartment cars had- since he has only travelled in the open-seat car before with his Slytherin friends.

 

He hugged the wall by the door- so no one could see him when they peered into the door window- and locked the compartment door. He pulled down the curtains and closed his eyes. He planned to sleep or think the entire 7-hour trip away. 

He considered how dumb it was to force everyone to take the train when the floo network was just as efficient as a bunch of dumb metal boxes with wheels- but he couldn't just stay at the school either. The variables of staying in the dorms could lead to dangerous situations. The early Prefects would most definitely give him hell for not following procedure. Any number of kids could sneak up after learning the passphrase at the Great Hall. He also couldn't just hide away for fear or somehow missing curfew or making his punishment worse than it already was.

 

He thought more on the subject as the train continued to load on. He could hear the squabbles of children squealing and the upperclassmen lumbering by complaining. He heard quite a few Slytherins he knew and shrunk away from pure embarrassment, despite being alone in the compartment. 

 

It wasn't until the train began to move and everyone had to be seated when problems started to arise. He realised there probably wouldn't be enough seats for everyone if he and every other asshole were to hog an entire compartment for themselves- and even if they could see him sitting there, they would be inclined to knock and enter, as to not get yelled at by attendants for safety.

 

Of course, however, it couldn't be someone he didn't know and would most likely forget- no. The knock on the door came very sharp and sudden, and he slowly sunk further into the corner to remain unseen.

 

"You think it's a faulty lock?" A dopey sounding voice pressed.

"No, Ron, I think whoever's in here is asleep, or something of the sort," Another voice answered.

 

_ It was Weasley and Granger _ \- which meant that **_he_ ** was also with them.

 

"This is literally the last compartment left. Should we split and take single seats in random compartments or..?" Weasley asked.

 

"No, let's try knocking louder- I’m sure they'll understand," Granger said before a loud rapping beat so close to his head. His shoulder sunk as he weighed the options. If he didn't answer they split right? A perfect situation for him. If he stayed still they wouldn't even know it was him hiding away.

 

"Really now- they aren't answering. We should-" Ron was cut off, Draco could tell that something was happening. "Wait, Hermione! We can't just-"

 

He could hear her pull her wand from her cloak, reaching for the lock. _ No way in hell this witch was going to just Alohomora her way in. _ He stood up slowly, avoiding the window, and unlocked the compartment, still holding the knob.

 

"I'm sure they heard us, Hermione." Potter then said- finally adding to the conversation. 

 

"Well, we can't sit anywhere else it seems. Whoever's in here is going to have to deal with us." Weasley asserted.

 

He slowly cracked the door and held it so they couldn't push their way in. "Now what would a Weasley, a Mudblood, and the great Mr Potter want?" He sneered.

 

"Of course it would be Malfoy. Just our luck." Weasley grumbled.

Draco frowned and opened the door all the way, arms crossing. "Why aren't you in the fancy open car with your Slytherin friends?" Potter asked, his voice sounded defeated in a way. He looked extremely tired- dejected even.

 

"Wasn't feeling it." Draco avoided, scoffing lightly. "No more seats for rejects like you lot?" 

Granger frowned and sighed.

 

"You'll have to deal with us, Malfoy. Unless you want the prefects and the attendants on your hide." He, after a moment to think, moved over and sat back down, this time by the window. He kept his glare away from the three. He shouldn’t get into trouble on day one. That would be terribly annoying.

 

They cautiously sat down after setting their bags in the over carriage, all on the opposite side from him. “Don't look so surprised. No one wants prefects chasing them down on their first day. Plus, the train really must be full if you still chose to sit down in here." He muttered after noticing their discretion. They seemed to relax slightly when he spoke up, but none of them could find words to say, it seemed.

 

The ride was carried out in silence for the first couple of hours, only peppered with short comments or snide remarks every time they passed something remotely interesting. They left at 11, and they'd probably arrive around 5. It was around the 3 PM mark when someone finally spoke up properly.

 

"So how was your summer, Harry?" Granger asked. "Besides the dementors attacking you and your cousin, that is."

 

Draco's ears perked up, but he remained still. He'd heard about the dementor attack in the muggle area from his Father's coworkers who occasionally visited the manor during the summer break, however, they all remained quite vague when he was present.

 

"Boring. I couldn't really go anywhere, and after what happened last year…" He fell silent and glanced over at Draco, reading his expression- searching for signs of hostility. Draco remained quiet again. "After what happened to Cedric, it all pretty much went downhill."

 

Granger nodded, looking down at the floor of the carriage for a moment. "You never did explain the dementor situation to us, even after you came to stay at the house with us last week." Her voice seemed fake in some way, as if saving face in front of Draco’s presence.

 

He shrugged. "My cousin was being- well he was being him, the usual sort of thing. The sky went dark and we ran. Ended up in a tunnel where the two came in. It's pretty self-explanatory from there." He stared at his hands. "My cousin was left pretty much devoid for days, but my Patronus was strong enough to steer them both off." 

 

_`_ _Potter can cast a Patronus?_ Draco thought. _Since when?_ He turned slightly, and began to open his mouth, but shut it again. He probably shouldn’t be saying anything odd- since he’d be forced to room with the for an undetermined amount of time.

 

The three took notice and stared at him, a long period of silence filled the empty space in between the bumps and shakes of the train. "Did you have something to add, Malfoy?" Granger questioned. 

 

He let out a sigh and shrugged. "I'll admit, I suppose, It's impressive you can cast a Patronus under such supposed conditions. That is- if it actually happened." He looked back outside the window with a passive demeanor.

 

Potter frowned slightly. "I made it through the hearing did I not? We proved the dementors were truly there." He turned to face the door, his frown growing even more. "I suppose not everyone believes that though." 

 

Draco decided to continue the conversation. "Well, the whole Ministry is alight- calling you and Dumbledore both a couple of liars. Saying anything and everything is just a big scheme to get the wizarding world hot and bothered." Draco examined the three as he remarked, their faces showing slight hints of annoyance at the comments. "Of course, no one's really heard from you, Potter, since you've been stuck out in the middle of the muggle world for months now. No one can really discern the truth from the lies. My father, of course, has his theories." 

 

They suddenly looked almost surprised. They turned more to face him. "So what do you think, then?" Weasley asked. "I mean, you being a Malfoy and everything," He tried to word it properly, but Draco could pick up what he meant.

 

"I don't know, I'll admit." He too, in turn, faced the three rather than the windows. "My father says it's all a mess, and that You and Dumbledore are planning some sort of attack on the ministry by concocting this… Plan. Though, I don't think that's true." 

 

"Then what do you think is true?" Granger asked. "We only ask because we're worried about Harry, and how the others are going to react to him." She leaned back a bit. "A census of sorts."

 

"My opinion, objectively, doesn't really mean much, don't you think?" He mumbled. "I'm apart of that 1%. I don't think my opinion would match the general public."

 

Granger shook her head. "Better. It's good to see what could come, no matter its objectivity or who it comes from." Potter and Weasley remained silent as Granger asserted herself.

 

"I suppose, relatively speaking, I don't really believe in either side. There's no proof you're even dafter than I already know you to be- and as much as I hate to admit it, you aren't stupid. At least, to the degree the ministry is advertising. You wouldn't engage in something as dumb as trying to start unrest in the wizarding world- at least not with the motive they're claiming you might have." He paused. "But I also don't think that The Dark Lord has returned. I just- It doesn't seem..." He faltered. "I'm not entirely sure anymore." 

 

They exchanged glances and Weasley spoke up. "That's fair, I ‘spose. A lot less uhh… Angrier than I was expecting, Malfoy." 

 

Granger nodded slightly. "I'll admit, I wasn't expecting such an objective response from you."

 

Potter leaned forward and tilted his head, "I'm not stupid, you say? A compliment from Malfoy?" He laughed lightly, trying to raise the mood.

 

_ ‘I didn't mean it like that; I just meant you weren't as stupid as they were making you out to sound. You're still stupid just not-’ _ Draco argued in his mind trying to rationalise the words he had just said. "I just said what I thought. You're still stupid, Potter, just not that stupid." 

 

Potter kept his smile, checking his watch. "I'll take it. But it's almost time for us to be arriving. I'm going to go change." As he left, Granger and Weasley both locked eyes with me.

 

"What's your game here? Bein' nice an' stuff?" Weasley asked. "Usually you'd be more like ‘my father's told me this,' ‘well I've heard this' ‘people like you just don't understand blah blah blah" he imitated Draco,  _ poorly _ might he add, and he sighed.

 

"Well, I didn't ask for any of you lot to be sitting in here with me. I can't really be bothered to make anything up for stuff like that. My father's been away for most of the summer so I can't really tell you what he thinks, and I've been on the fence about it I guess. I just don't really care for these things specifically, especially with the-" He froze, almost mentioning the rehousing he went under only a week prior. He felt his face heat up and he looked away, his mouth shutting quickly.

 

"Before what, Malfoy?"

 

He disregarded Grangers question, shaking his head. "It shouldn't concern you, Granger." He then said. "It's just a bit of a problem for me. My father will fix it, naturally." She opened her mouth as if to retaliate, but closed it. Potter eventually returned in his robes, and Granger and Weasley both left to change as well. When he sat down, he smirked a little, leaning forward as he spoke.

"You've been very mellow all this ride." He remarked. "Usually you like to call us names and push us around. Bringing your posse of Slytherin friends around. But today you're attempting to make conversation with us?" He adjusted his glasses. 

 

_ "Don’t you think it’s time to put your differences aside with them and bury whatever grievances you have with them?"  _ Remembering McGonagall's voice made Draco go quiet, he shrugged. "Is there a point anymore? Of course, I despise your every being, Granger's a filthy mudblood that shouldn't even be here, and Weasley is… Well, he's a Weasley. Daft and poor, that one." Potter frowned suddenly. "But You all already know that; I don't see a point in pushing it in even more, especially not now. I'm only being ‘mellow' as you say because there's no point in showing hostility in a place like this on the first day of school." 

 

Potter nodded. He adjusted his red and gold tie and sighed. "I didn't think you could choose to not be mean to us." Draco turned again to face Potter slowly. "Y'know you don't have to be our enemy or anything." He then said. Draco shook his head, and as he opened his mouth, Granger and Weasley opened the door and entered.

 

"Maybe, if things were different." He said suddenly. He thought of his pureblood family and their hatred for anything less, he thought of his wealth, of his life.  _ ‘Maybe' _ He thought _ ‘Maybe if any of that didn't get in the way. Perhaps then.' _ He stood up and grabbed the box that contained his uniform.  _ ‘ We perhaps wouldn't hate each other' _  He opened the door again and exited into the narrow hallways that connected the cars, he glanced back to see Granger and Weasley, concerned faces were strewn as they bombarded Potter with questions.

 

He turned again, shaking his head. _ ‘Maybe my ass, damn idiots.' _ He weaved through the students and came upon the Slytherin car. The closest changing car was just after it. He, after a moment of breathing, shuffled through the car. 

 

He got a few nods to some of the lower-key students, however, tried to ignore the table that Pansy and the others sat at. He noticed they had saved him a seat, even though the 7-hour ride was almost over. At the sight of him passing, Pansy stood up.

 

"Draco! Where have you been?" She tried to wave him over but he shook his head.

 

"I've got to change into these stupid robes, unfortunately." He glared at the box and tried to continue on.

 

"But where've ya been sittin'? We saved yer usual seat." Crabbe added.

 

"I had a headache this morning. I was in a private compartment resting." He said as he moved on. "Don't bother waiting for me when we stop, I have some business up ahead."

 

Without responding, or even hearing what his friends said, he squeezed into the changing car. Most of the students had already switched into their uniforms, only a few first-years remained. The car had multiple closets for privacy, stools and racks for shoes and the like.

 

He entered one of the stalls and stared at himself in the mirror. He frowned. He didn't look like a Gryffindor. He didn't even resemble the obnoxious asshats that lived in that damned tower. He was refined, polished, his hair slicked back and his coat perfectly clean. His hand subconsciously raised his head, gingerly touching the gelled hair that stayed in place. If he were to remove the gel... if he were to ruffle his hair up like Potter's or Longbottom's. If he were to let it fluff out like he knew it would if he did not control it…  _ Would he look like a Gryffindor?  _

 

His hand shot down and he shook his head. ‘ _ No.’ _ He quickly buried the thoughts. _ ‘I am not a Gryffindor _ ,  _ I don't need to look like one either.’  _ He quickly undid his tie and blazer, and after a few moments of hesitation, he opened the box.

 

The lion's crest that adorned the cloak was bright red was impossibly infuriating to Draco. The tie was just as bright, and it reminded him of all the stupid Gryffindors he hated, it reminded him of the thing he'd been attacking since the first day of his first year when Potter refused to even look at him. It reminded him of when he extended his hand and was left out in the open. When he was thrown into the forbidden forest with Potter and his stupid meddling friends, or when he broke his arm and made a fool of himself with that damned beast when Potter could do it, when Potter grabbed every ounce of fame and notoriety from that damned wizard cup.  _ ‘That damn Potter. All the time.’ _

 

He buttoned his shirt up and pulled the sweater through, the red crest was sewn on. He turned his back to the mirror which was attached to the side of the stall, refusing to look at himself as he put on every piece of the outfit, bit by bit.

 

He slowly picked up the tie, popping his collar before bringing the fabric around, wrapping the silk against itself. After the tie was procured in place, he tucked it into the sweater. The pants and shoes were the same, they always were, and then he pulled the large cloak out from the box. The thick black fabric and the maroon silk waved around as he adjusted to slide the sleeves on. Of course, with the full ensemble on, it fit perfectly. 

 

Still facing the far wall, away from the mirror, he looked down at his hands. Shifting his weight and closing his eyes. He was going to sit in this car until the train cleared out, then he'd pull the cloak hood over and ride the last cart out to the school. 

 

He was afraid of the idea of waiting in that stupid dorm room, not knowing when Longbottom or Weasley or Thomas...  **_or Potter_ ** would bust through the door expecting another year of fun and stupid adventures just to come face-to-face with someone who, quite frankly, shouldn't even be there.

 

He waited until he could feel the halt of the train and listened as the kids got off. He sat it out for a few more minutes until the train stood still and he could seldom hear voices before he got up. Out of curiosity alone, his eyes began to turn to the mirror. When his reflection met his eyes, he turned around fully.

 

He looked off, a bit weird even,  _ but it wasn't as bad as he expected, it was the school uniform he was talking about here but overall not ba- ‘no _ .’ He closed his eyes. ‘ _ It looks terrible. I did not just say it wasn't bad.’ _ He stopped any and all thoughts and huffed. _ ‘It's bad- worse than I expected. It's absolutely horrid.’ _

 

He opened the door to the changing room slowly, luckily, not a soul was left on the train. He pulled up the hood on his cloak, covering his face with the robes, and made his way to the car door. Outside, it was empty, save for the few birds and animals that rustled in the forest.

 

He shuffled in the direction of the thestral carts that pulled them to the school; and watched as the last few were beginning to move. He approached the last one, which sat a strange girl, but no one else. She didn't look up as he boarded, Reading her magazine upside down with strange glasses on. ‘ _ One reason to be thankful I wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw, I guess.’ _ He thought, watching from under the fabric as the girl nodded her head every now and again to the paper. 

 

Unfortunately, the strange girl with the magazine wasn't the only one who needed a ride, because of course, a trio of annoyingly familiar voices came into view. He shrunk into the seat as they slowly boarded and sat down. _ ‘What luck.’ _ He cursed in his head as they spoke; introducing themselves to the weird girl. Then, of course, that Longbottom kid also had to be dreadfully late to the party.

 

They tried to talk to him, noticing the Gryffindor robes, but Draco had nothing to say. He glazed over and watched the path they took as it passed them. How was he going to explain this? He would eventually have to. _ "Oh hey Potter, Weasley, by the way. Surprise I'm in Gryffindor now as punishment for bullying you!" _ He wasn't sure why he was so concerned with them, but he could already feel his pride in shambles, even worse than the rehousing itself was facing them.  _ "Mrs McGonagall told me to play nice with you all until my father fixes this so don't screw this up any more than it already is!" _

 

When they arrived at the school, the customary feast was about to begin. The damned old man Dumbledore was standing at his podium, waiting for every student to be seated before the first years would be housed. Draco, of course, waited until every other Gryffindor was seated until he dared to sit down, luckily on the complete opposite ends from Potter. He hoped he could get through the night silently, after the feast he would silently follow the Prefects to the tower commons, where he'd probably have to meet his specific Prefect he'd report into, then he'd be allowed to sulk in the dorm room, with the stupid, loud, rowdy kids.

 

As Dumbledore made his speech, an old lady, all in pink with a prim and hateful look in her eyes cut him off to make a speech. Draco watched her, following her with his eyes. He glanced over to the Slytherin table, who seemed to get a kick out of it- while the table he sat at, full of the crazy kids, sat in utter shock. They murmured under their breath and he could hear it.

 

**_"What the hell? Is Dumbledore seriously letting the Ministry take over?"_ **

 

**_"What a bitch- I can already tell."_ **

 

**_"Another dark arts teacher? When will they finally stop? She looks terrible."_ **

 

He had to agree, Mrs Umbridge..? Looked terrible, the pink just added to it. Her voice made him cringe up and it made him slightly off put. The whole Gryffindor table was uncomfortable as she spoke.

 

After her speech, they housed the first years, to which Draco glared at the hat the entire time, and then the feast began. No one bothered to speak to Draco, as they couldn't tell who he was exactly. Not to mention they were already so caught up in their loud, ambitiously annoying screaming to notice him anyway. He ate silently, pulling his hood down even more every time he got a glimpse of the Slytherin table. He could see Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini waiting for him- expecting him to slip in late- not this time. ‘ _ I'm already here, unfortunately.’ _

 

They followed the prefects up the long-winded stairs to the pairing, the head boy explaining the whole "Ulesiss Invard" thing as they entered the commons. Immediately every upperclassman spread out. Some made their way up to their dorms, while others to the couches, all talking in their little groups. The first years were all taken to their dorms to rest and recover from the next experiences while everyone else caught up. That's when they started drawing attention to Draco.

 

One of the prefects approached him, smiling as she led him off to the side, where no one could see them. He raised his hood slightly.

 

"You're Draco Malfoy? The rehoused student?" She asked him with a polite tone.

 

"Unfortunately, Yes. I am the one stuck in this mess until it gets fixed." He crosses his arms, watching the groups behind them.

 

"Mrs McGonagall told me to explain to you the ground rules for your rehousing and punishment. You're to be in the Gryffindor commons before 8 PM, rather than the usual 10. You are only allowed out for any specific reasons signed off by either her or your teachers. It’s quite obvious, but you'll be checking in with me from today on every week. Give me updates on your classes, general life, etc. Anything I ask of you, you must answer truthfully." She was slightly out of breath at the end, so Draco kept silent. After collecting herself, she sighed. "You understand, Yeah?"

 

He nodded, not making eye contact. It was humiliating. 

 

She smiled to herself, satisfied. "I thought you'd be worse, considering you're a former Slytherin who was moved here for punishment." He held his tongue and motioned him hearing her remark. "You might want to go ahead on up to your dorm; you're probably tired, and well…" she peered over to the mass group exchange. "I doubt you want to take part in that." He nodded, sulking off quickly. As he made his way upstairs, he could hear the voices die down.

 

"-Better than Cedric's." A kid said, the room was almost silent. 

 

He peered down to see Potter, who nodded solemnly. The looks and stares he was getting from around the room were almost exclusively negative scowls; save for a few faces of concern. As Potter headed for the stairs another voice butted in.

 

He could hear an aggressive exchange take place after that; Potter called the kid out on his mom, which was pretty low, even for Draco. He stood almost impressed before clamouring up the stairs at the sound of Weasley's voice.

 

He entered the dorm and quickly slid into the covers-  at least he was comfortable. After a few seconds of cringing up- he heard their voices approaching. The hood was all the way around and he wrapped himself up. He couldn't possibly explain the situation right now- he was far too embarrassed to even try. If at all possible, he’d just ignore the whole ‘by the way guys’ situation all together. His father wouldn’t take  _ that _ long.

 

"-mbridge seems like a total tightwad, Yeah?" Weasley said as the door swung open. He felt his body tense up a little as their presences became more clear. 

 

"Yeah. She was at my hearing when they were threatening to expel me. She was against me, even claimed Dumbledore was accusing the ministry of sending the Dementors after us. She's adding fuel to the fire." Potter, from what Draco could tell, shuffled to his bed. 

 

"What're we going to do? The ministry is all over this and we'll probably have other… problems. I just don’t like how this is going." 

 

They fell silent. "We can only wait to see how She is during class. It can't be but so bad, right?" Potter then said. Draco could feel pins and needles and that uncomfortable feeling you get when someone is staring. In the brief moment of silence, they probably noticed his existence. "Who's he?" He suddenly asked. Draco pretended to be asleep and he could hear Weasley shrug.

 

"Dunno. Probably just an oddball guy they couldn't room anywhere else. Poor sap's already out." He stayed still, hoping they’d just eventually ignore him.

 

"We'll have to introduce ourselves tomorrow then when we can." Potter said quietly "Never seen that trunk before, but he can’t be a first year right? They’d never shove a first year in a fifth year dorm." He laughed.

 

They talked more, but softly, thinking Draco was asleep, and eventually after a billion years, he was. He had a brief, and momentary plan in place... It was just a matter of making sure it was executed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to edit this is killing me
> 
> i have about 84 pages to edit before this version is caught up with the rough draft... haha
> 
> enjoy my terribly scripted dialogue, expect another update soon ;)


	3. Not according to plan...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's classes start off fine, with absolutely no one paying attention to him.  
> Then, of course, the newly ordained 'High Inquisitor' had to step in and ruin everything.
> 
> Draco then proceeds to have everything around him go absolutely awry, and all he can do is watch, and potentially run away from his problems.

When Draco woke up, it was already breakfast time, and he was sure classes would most definitely start soon. Thankfully, he was the only one in the room by the time he had woken up, everyone else had already left for breakfast or whatever it is Gryffindors get up to in the morning.

 

He eventually pulled himself from the soft red sheets and tried to fix his appearance, since he ended up sleeping in the clothes from last night. He couldn’t really find an opportunity to change during the entire night, and he wasn’t about to reveal his identity. 

He would not allow such a thing to happen- He planned to stay as low-key as he possibly could, since it felt like just about the one thing he could control.

 

After staring at the mirror for a couple minutes, adjusting his stupid red tie until it looked  _ just _ right, he pulled the hood of the cloak over his head and opened the door to the dorm, using the small golden key he had to lock the door behind him. He sulked down the stairs with his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, reaching the common room which was filled with an exuberant air. It was only the first morning of the term and the entire Gryffindor common was already full of loud, annoyingly bright students chattering away with themselves.

He did not, in any way, fit in with the lot. Not physically, nor mentally.  _ Not like he wanted to, of course. _ As he descended the stairs onto the main floor, he could feel their attention quickly getting drawn to him. It was very  _ very _ obvious that he wasn’t meant to be there. They all seemed to look away when he got too close, like they knew. 

_ ‘Stay calm, only a couple of days.’  _ Draco reminded himself, hearing their low whispers as he finally made his way into the hall and through the painting.  _ ‘Their opinions don’t matter.’ _ He left the common room without a second thought.

 

Draco’s first class was Astronomy, something he found awfully odd to have in the morning, as opposed to during the night. It was a mindless endeavor for him, either way. Who cared about Jupiter’s moons? 

He sauntered into the classroom, sticking close to the walls in hopes no one would notice him. Sitting in the very back of the room, he was able to successfully fly under the radar. Professor Sinistra hadn’t bothered to call him out or acknowledge him, which made it all the better in his opinion. He didn’t share the class with anyone he knew either, which relieved some stress.

All he had to do was have every other class the exact same way, and rinse and repeat until his father came.

 

After the break between his first and second class, which he spend grabbing his missed breakfast, it was double potions. He didn’t like- nor dislike- potions… but he wasn’t sure how Professor Snape would react. He was certain that the teachers were notified of the house change, especially the heads of houses, but whether or not his wishes to remain under the radar had been expressed wasn’t clear.

He, and the other students, piled into the potions room and picked seats around the large tables in the room. There were only so many options, given he was going to be forced to sit next to someone either way, but as soon as Potter entered the room with his ridiculous friends, he picked his seat next to a random girl he’d never seen before without an ounce of hesitation. 

The last thing he wanted in the class was to be near that lot.

 

Professor Snape, surprisingly, didn’t bat an eye towards his table the entire time. It might’ve been because  _ Weasley _ was making a fool of himself the entire period which drew the Professor's attention away from the rest of the class. Either way, it turned good in his favor for the day.

 

Lunch was ignored, as Draco didn’t want to hang around the Gryffindor table during the busy hours, and he found himself wandering the library hoping to stumble across a good aisle to take a breather in. He knew that the situation would be annoyingly difficult, but the stress that elapsed around his chest made it hard to think at times. 

He couldn’t imagine the shame and embarrassment of being found out now. He had briefly considered just owning up to it during the week he had before the term started, but as soon as he was surrounded by  _ real _ people? He couldn’t handle the stress of thinking about it.

_ ‘You’ve already sent the letter to your father.’  _ He reminded himself.  _ ‘It’ll be over soon, there’s no point in freaking out.’ _ He took a deep breath, feeling the constriction around his lungs. He hated every second of it.

 

When lunch ended, his schedule directed him towards the class he was least enthusiastic about. Defense against the dark arts.

He wasn’t a fan of the class to begin with, but the new Professor, Umbridge, did not help that at all.

 

Potter, Weasley, and Granger were in this class, along with Pansy and Crabbe. He couldn’t imagine risking anything around that many people and resorted to the furthest seat he could find, sinking into the backside of the chair to avoid any eye contact with the professor or the students. 

 

She began with an introduction and a brief overview of the O.W.L.s, and handed out some textbooks down the row. Her voice was comparable to shattered glass, and her speech made him cringe up. Every little word had to be punctuated in a way that made Draco’s head feel like it was about to split.

When the books were finally passed down his row, he felt a migraine begin to come along. “Dark Arts Defence: Basics for Beginners” made him want to vomit. She allowed the class to scan to textbook briefly as she spoke, and Draco could feel himself losing the capacity to read with every line he saw. 

 

The only good thing to come from that period is that Umbridge hadn’t questioned him or brought any attention to him. With the way she was acting, he was expecting something horrible to come from the class, but besides the terrible ‘Ministry-Approved’ learning, at least she hadn’t done anything to  _ him _ personally. 

 

With the end of that class, he was done for the day. One day down, only a couple more.

 

He forced himself to sit down for dinner at the end of the Gryffindor table that evening, where he was met with the low whispers of the other students who sat around him. 

 

**_“Who is that? I’ve never seen them before…”_ ** He could pick out individual voices in the loud crowd, all trying to figure out just who he was. 

 

**_“It can’t be a first year though, right? They’re way too tall for that.”_ ** He picked at his food, listening to them. Even when he was low-key, it seemed to draw  _ some _ sort of attention.

 

**_“I’m pretty sure I saw them in my potions class. They’re a fifth year.”_ **

 

With no reason to stay at the godforsaken table any longer than need be, he quickly left the feast as soon as he was done with the plate he had served himself, bounding up the stairs of the tower. He didn’t like it when they whispered, it made him think even more about the situation; and the fact that others could see it.

He was, of course, the first one in the dorm. When he had hurried through the commons, only a few people were around- and the only one to acknowledge him was that stupid prefect who was keeping tabs on him. As soon as the door to the dorm was secured the hood which had been resting on his head all day fell off, and he quickly changed into something rather than his dreaded school uniform. Falling into the obnoxiously comfortable bed, he pulled the covers over his head.  

 

With no word from his father, he could tell every day would get progressively more exhausting. All he could hope for was the eventual resolution- but a fleeting idea struck him-  _ what if his father didn’t come? _ He could feel his chest twinge up with more anxiety at the mere thought. He was a busy man, after all. But-  _ no. _ He couldn’t think like that.  _ ‘Stay positive.’ _

 

He kept repeating that simple two-letter phrase to himself under the sheets and bedding until he drifted into unconscious, well before any of his stupid roommates had the opportunity to obstruct his thoughts.

 

The week continued along a very similar pattern, and the teachers with every other course he was taking seemed to have a similar reaction to Monday’s events. Every night, he’d return before any other roommate, and was always asleep first, always awake last. He got used to skipping breakfasts, and often stopped by for midday brunch when few students were around and he had free time to spare. When he pretended to be asleep in those nerve wracking nights, he could overhear the conversations the other 4 would have. 

Sometimes it was little things like the concept of ‘OWLS’ or stupid family junk. Other times, if was about Umbridge, or even rarely, about the Dark Lord. Though, they seemed afraid to talk about anything  _ too _ crazy in front of him, seeing as they didn’t even know  _ who _ he was.

 

As the days turned into weeks, Draco heard no reply from his Father. His mother only insisted he was still at work, and hadn’t received his letters yet- but that just made him even more anxious.  _ Just how long would he be stuck in this ridiculous cycle? _ The new ‘high-inquisitor’ didn’t make the cycle any better, either. In only a matter of  _ weeks _ , Professor Umbridge had somehow secured that absurd title. Before he could even blink, they were posting new rules in the main hall which prohibited  _ this _ or  _ that _ or whatever Umbridge damn well pleased.

 

Being surrounded by the idiots in Gryffindor did not help at all, because everytime the ministry posted a new ‘Inquisitorial Degree’ Weasley had something to say about it. The past few nights alone had just been Weasley complaining to the others in the dorm about  _ having to tie his tie right _ or  _ tucking his shirt into his slacks. _

 

Draco didn’t know how much more of this he could possibly take. If he had to hear  _ one more announcement  _ about a new prohibited action or rule or the complaints that followed, he was going to throw himself off the astronomy tower.

 

This was nothing compared to what came in the third week of the term.

 

It had been roughly a week since Umbridge was named ‘High Inquisitor’ and Draco’s first defense class since the decree went into action. He slipped into the lecture hall with the same amount of unassuming quietness as usual. Umbridge assigned the class a chapter to read and take notes over, as she had done the past few classes, and walked around the room to monitor them as they studied.

 

Draco did as he was instructed and attempted to read the passage she had written on the board, eyes scanning over the same five lines about twenty times before he finally snapped out of it and continued reading, only to repeat the process. As he read the line talking about counter-jinxes, an annoyingly high pitched sound came from in front of him.

 

He looked up, face still covered, and locked eyes with the Professor. “Now there’s no reason to be wearing a hood inside, is there?.” She asked coyly, her voice making Draco’s thought process blur from just how annoying it was. “It’s quite disrespectful.”

 

Draco dipped his head low. “I apologise, Professor, but there aren’t any rules against wearing hoods inside. It’s within code.” He murmured just loud enough for her to hear. He meant it with the utmost respect- seeing as he didn’t want to get on her bad side, but almost immediately after the sentence left his mouth, he regretted it.

 

She bit her lip and took a deep, dramatic breath, as if stopping herself from going off on him in the middle of class. “We’ll see about that, shall we?” She concluded, turning on her heel. Her response caught the attention of the class, and he sank into his seat even more at the feeling of being stared at. The whispers which circulated the room only made it worse.

 

When the class finished, quite a few people began to walk towards Draco- and he didn’t want that. Umbridge actually  _ acknowledging _ his existence made his peers aware of him too. He gathered up his books quickly left the room, ignoring anyone who tried to initiate conversation.

He didn’t want to be found out- he didn’t think he’d be three weeks on this bullshit.

 

He hurried down the halls and took every turn he possibly could, eventually feeding into the northern courtyard. He held his hood tightly and glanced around, the hall he had stopped in had a few passing people, but no one he knew. ‘ _ Thank god.’  _ He thought, shoulders slumping.

 

“Hey! You!” A voice suddenly intruded, making Draco’s entire body tense up. He knew that voice better than he wished he had.  _ Harry Potter. _ He turned around, hood still pulled over his face, and watched as Potter marched across the courtyard towards him. 

 

“You’re my roommate, right?” He started, mustering a smile as he stopped a few feet in front of Draco. “My name is Harry Potter, we’ve never formally met.” He stuck his hand out, expecting to elicit some sort of response.

 

Draco hesitated and then turned away slightly. “I knew that already.” He said in a low murmur; his voice too small to recognise. “We’ve been roommates for almost 3 weeks now.” As he spoke, he found himself beginning to back up, trying to get back into the open-aired hallway that connected the courtyard to the school.

 

Potter lowered his hand in slight disappointment, clearing his throat. “You seem the quiet type, so I was surprised when you back-talked Professor Umbridge.” He laughed. “Too bad though, she’ll probably have an inquisitorial decree up before the end of the day banning hoods.”

 

Draco stopped backing up, being reminded of the stupid mistake he made. How was he going to get through the school days now if he couldn’t mask his identity with a stupid hood? He couldn’t imagine the ridicule he’d get…

 

“Are you alright?” Potter interrupted his thoughts before they could divulge into anxieties and Draco shook his head. He opened his mouth to respond- before a loud voice cut him off. It was the magical announcement system Umbridge had installed.

 

**_“All students are now required to remove any and all head accessories from their uniform immediately. Any hats, clips, pins, or worn cloak hoods in use during school hours inside the walls will be subject to removal and befitting punishment. Effective immediately.”_ **

 

Potter sighed. “Nevermind.” He scratched his head. “You might want to go back to the dorms. She won’t be able to punish you there. If you stay out here she’ll just magic your hood from of existence.”

 

Draco looked around, concern filling his chest. This would happen eventually. He would eventually be put in a situation where he’d slowly but surely be forced to out himself… But for that damn Umbridge to put into effect some dumb rule, and for it to start so suddenly. He took a deep breath. This was technically  _ his _ fault.

 

Before he could even take a step however, He heard a chilling call.

 

“You there! The hooded one next to Mr Potter!” A proper voice stabbed at him.

 

Draco and Potter both turned around, Professor Umbridge approaching them quickly. She smiled with a great satisfaction. “Didn’t you hear?” She crossed her arms, pink cardigan making a starchy sound as she did so.  “Hoods are not to be worn during the school hours within these walls.” She reached out to pull down his hood and he flinched, backing up again. 

 

Potter held out his arm, as if it would do anything to stop the damn woman, but she just pulled her wand from her sleeve. “This is your only warning, you hear me? Next time something like this happens, you’ll be free to join Mr Potter in detention.” She waved the wand in a motion towards Draco, and he could feel the fabric slip against the top of his head.

 

With utter defeat and horror in his eyes as the hood dropped to reveal his identity, the ex-slytherin spun on his heel and ran as fast as he could from the courtyard, ignoring the calls that Potter obnoxiously yelled out. He could feel his chest constricting and his blood rising- his face getting red from embarrassment.

 

Running as fast as he could, given how heavy his heart felt, he turned as many corners as he could- trying to find some sort of dead-end or classroom or  _ something _ to hide his shame in. The halls were relatively empty, given it was almost time for dinner, but he had a feeling Potter would try to follow him. After about a billionth turn, he stopped- finding a small, out of the way dead end.

 

He slipped behind one of the pillars in the wall, facing the windows, and hugged his knees up to his chest. The hood on his cloak had been permanently forced down with Umbridge’s magic, so he pulled the entire cloak up to cover himself, balling up into a pile of fabric.  _ ‘There’s a chance Potter didn’t even see. You could still salvage this.’ _ He tried to rationalise the situation, but he  _ knew _ that Potter knew. If Potter knew, that meant anyone could have seen it. 

 

_ ‘It was going to happen eventually, given how late your father is.’ _ He then thought.  _ ‘The secret was bound to get out at some point. You can’t keep running from this.’ _ He hugged his legs tighter, and took deep breaths. As he did, he could hear the footsteps of another slowly approaching the dead-end.  _ ‘Please for the love of everything, do not be Potter.’ _ He pleaded from under the cloak,

 

The footsteps stopped, and after a pause of heavy breathing, he cleared his throat again. “Malfoy..?” He asked quietly.

 

_ ‘Oh the humility.’ _ He felt his soul finally being crushed. “If you need a minute to ridicule me, I’d suggest getting it out of the way now.” He muttered, defeated under the cloak. “When my father hears about this I’ll have that damn inquisitor’s head.” 

 

Harry sat down in the dead-end, back against the wall. “I’m more confused than anything.” He said. “Why exactly do you have a Gryffindor uniform on, and why have you been rooming in our dorm for the past three weeks?” 

 

Draco lifted his head slightly, peeking out from his ball of shame. He didn’t make eye contact. “This summer, the heads of houses voted to put me through a ‘rehabilitation’.” He put air-quotes around his words as he spoke. “When the hat was placed on my head, it was told to rehouse me into my second best-fitting house.” Draco paused, glancing over at Potter to read his expression, which was almost surprised. “Naturally, the damn thing did the exact opposite.”

 

There was a momentary silence after Draco explained his situation, then Potter tilted his head, still looking confused. “Is it permanent?”

 

“Technically, yes.” Draco mumbled. “It’s permanent unless another rehousing takes place.” He raised his head more, finally making proper eye-contact, but it still hung in shame. “I am, on every statistical and logistical level, a Gryffindor as of a couple weeks ago. I’m registered as one and everything. Go ahead and laugh, get it all out of your system now.”

 

He anticipated some sort of laughter- or atleast a chuckle- but Potter’s face remained serious. “So why hasn’t your father fixed it yet? Seems only yesterday he’d drop everything just to help you.” 

 

He frowned, but shook his head. “He’s been away on business for the ministry. I don’t think he’s received my owls yet.” He finally let go of his legs, leaning back against the pilliar. 

 

They sat in silence for a moment, Draco adjusting his stupid tie and patting out his stupid maroon robes. There weren’t any students passing by the hall they were sitting in, but it’s not like he could hide either way. 

“What are you going to do now?” Potter suddenly asked. “Looks like hiding can only get you so far.” His eyes were fixated on Draco’s lion crest and Gryffindor adornments.

 

“Does it concern you?” He quipped. 

 

“Actually, yes it does.” Potter replied in his obnoxious voice. “Like it or not but this whole… thing.” He paused. “It isn’t just your problem now.” He crossed his arms. “This affects everyone in Gryffindor and Slytherin. What about your friends? Your old roommates?  _ Your current roommates? _ You could seriously start some problems if you don’t handle this right.” 

 

_ ‘Going off and deciding things for yourself? What a prick.’ _ Draco frowned, but before he opened his mouth to retaliate, he thought about it.  _ ‘He did make a point. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Zabini…’ _ He looked down at the ground.  _ ‘Potter too, and Weasley… I guess.’  _ The fact that they _ were _ his roommates did mean something.

 

“As much as I hate to admit it,” He looked up. “you’re… right.” 

 

As soon as the words left his lips, a smug smile spread across Potter’s face. “So even the all-powerful  **_Draco Malfoy_ ** can see reason?” He let out a stupid laugh which echoed in the hall.

 

The utter look of ridiculousness on Potter’s face made Draco feel a slight bit better, so he played along. “Only when the great and lustrous  **_Harry Potter_ ** says something that actually makes any sense.” He mocked.

 

Potter seemed to find it amusing as he laughed a little harder. “Seriously though,” He looked over to Draco, a smile still residing. “You just gonna sit behind this pillar until the situation blows over?” 

 

Draco shook his head, peering from behind the collum. “It was bound to happen eventually. I guess I should just go back up to the dorm and see how tomorrow goes, I don’t know.” 

 

“You’re seriously going to skip dinner?” The Gryffindor asked. “Don’t you skip breakfast too? You’re always in bed when we leave.”

 

Draco nodded. “Going into the main hall right now would be a big surprise, and I don’t think I’ve got the capacity to sit around people who  _ already _ whisper about me. They’ve already started rumors, so if I just  _ waltzed _ in right now, I don’t think I’d be very well received.”

He began to stand up, brushing his slacks off. “Part of me wants to just get it out of the way so I can go on with life- but the other part of me can feel my pride and soul being crushed- and would rather preserve whatever’s left.”

 

Potter stood up too, patting his uniform down. “I think you should go have dinner and get it out of the way.” He said simply. “There are no other real options, since Professor Umbridge banned just about everything. Not only that, but your ‘pride’ or whatever is going to get crushed anyways. You still have tomorrow, and the day after that… and the day after that.” He listed. “You get the idea.”

 

Draco sighed. “Unfortunately, you make a good case once again Potter.” He tucked the cloak under his arm and glanced back down the hall.

 

They stood in silence for a moment, as if deliberating. “You said ‘if things were different’ back on the train, didn’t you?” Potter suddenly interjected.

 

“I- yes, I suppose I did.” He murmured. 

 

“Don’t you think this situation is different enough?”

 

“Harry!” A voice interrupted, and Draco closed his mouth. Whatever he was about to say wasn’t going to get said. The sound of bounding footsteps made it clear that Granger and Weasley had just found their whereabouts.

 

“We got concerned when you ran out of defense that fast… To think you’d’ve gone all the way to the west corridors!” Weasley said between breaths. “We looked nearly everywhere for you.”

“Hang on, is that Malfoy?” Granger asked. He tensed up, feeling the prickling feeling on his back as he tried to come up with any sort of response. “What’s he done?” She asked accusingly.

 

Harry just smiled, shaking his head. “Nothing, Me and Draco were just having a nice conversation is all.” He placed a gentle hand on Draco’s shoulder, to which he didn’t retaliate despite his brief shock.

 

“Yes.” He responded after a couple seconds, Potter looking slightly surprised. “We were just talking. no reason start pointing fingers, Granger.”  _ ‘Did he seriously just call me Draco? Ugh.’ _

 

They, still on guard, approached closer. “Dinner’s already started, but I know Ginny saved us a section.” Weasley said. “Let’s go, Harry.” Draco waited for Potter to pass by, but he instead just pat Draco’s shoulder again.

 

“Can he tag along?” He asked. Draco expressed surprise as Granger and Weasley were taken aback by the inquiry.  He bit his lip.  _ ‘I guess you’re just making all the decisions now, asshole.’  _ He thought.

 

Hermione laughed. “Harry… That’s not how that works at all. Malfoy’s got a seat with Slytherin.” Her tone was almost rude.

 

Potter nudged Draco lightly, whispering. “You can say no if you want, I won’t force you to eat with us. You did say you didn’t want to sit with the kids whispering about you though, right? We won’t do that.” He looked back towards Weasley and Granger. “Plus, skipping out on meals could really screw you over.”

 

He really, genuinely, honestly thought about it, which scared him. “Dinner.” He said suddenly.  _ ‘To hell with it, it can’t do but so much more harm.’ _ “Right. Sure.”

 

Draco turned around, facing Granger and Weasley. For a very short moment, they didn’t react- then as soon as it hit them, their faces’ twisted up into confusion from impact.

 

“It’s a long story, come on.” Potter said, walking out from the dead end to join the two bewildered Gryffindors, Draco slowly following. “Let’s just go find some seats, grab some food- and we’ll explain everything, okay?”  

 

The two couldn’t think of anything to say, so they followed Potter silently. Draco slipped the cloak back on, instinctively trying to pull the hood up before remembering that Umbridge had charmed it, the followed the three down the hallway.

 

When they arrived to the main hall, the three immediately headed for the center of the table, amidst every other student from the school, and Draco stopped.  _ ‘Just go.’ _ His inner voice insisted.  _ ‘You’ve nothing more to lose.’ _ He swallowed whatever remaining pride he had left, and shuffled down the row, sitting next to Potter and that Longbottom kid.

 

“Alright, spill it.” Weasley pointed his fork at Draco. “What am I looking at?”

 

“A big mistake, no doubt.” Granger said as she sat down. 

 

Draco sat about as stiff as someone could sit, staring blankly as his mind tried to process the situation with  _ some _ amount of sophistication. “I was rehoused over the summer holiday.” He finally said. 

 

“That can’t be right though, you can’t just  _ switch houses. _ ” Weasley had already filled his plate and was speaking in between bites. Granger shook her head after he spoke.

 

“It’s in the laws of the school.” She said. “Chapter 13, The heads of houses can put it to a vote and rehouse a student if they see it fit.” 

 

Draco was impressed she was able to recall something like that, and nodded. “Right.” He looked down at his uniform. “They’ve put me under a ‘rehabilitation,’ which required me to move houses. The hat put me in Gryffindor for whatever god awful reason.”

 

They looked at each other, then they stared at Potter, who shrugged. “He’s our roommate, by the way.” He added, which made Weasley reel over and groan.

 

“Is this permanent? Or just for the semester? The term?” Granger leaned forward over the table in interest. “The rules in the book I read weren’t very clear on the smaller details.”

 

Draco shook his head. “My father has been extremely busy, but when he receives my owls, it’ll be taken care of.” He took a small, unassuming bite from the turkey he had served himself while they spoke. “As soon as he comes back, I’ll be resorted back where I belong, simple as that.” He paused. 

 

“I can’t believe you’re our roommate.” Weasley finally uttered. “Why our room? Of all the rooms they could have picked.”

 

“I share similar sentiments, Weasley. It’s not like I  _ enjoy _ listening to you guys stay up all night talking about  _ this _ and  _ that _ .” He mocked, to which Weasley groaned again.

 

Potter laughed at Weasley’s lament, trying to lighten the mood. “So, how is Gryffindor from a Slytherin’s point of view?” He asked, switching the topic.

 

Draco held back his immediate comment which was  _ ‘not as bad as I thought it would be.’ _  Instead, he shrugged. “Exactly what I’d expect from you lot, I suppose.” He didn’t want to be  _ mean _ per se. “It’s very loud, and disorganised.” 

Granger nodded. “I have to agree with that one, we aren’t very good at keeping the commons neat.”

“Beyond that, it hasn’t been bad.” He said, taking another bite from his meal. “I’d still prefer Slytherin by far- but Gryffindor has it’s… qualities, I guess.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Granger asked.

 

Draco shrugged,  _ ‘is she interrogating me now?’ _ “The tower gets fresh air, which is a complete 180 from the Slytherin dorms underground. The vaulted ceilings are different too, and the bright natural light from the windows.” He faltered. Was he  _ praising _ the Gryffindors now? 

 

“Well I mean, bein’ up in one of the tallest towers of the castle’s bound to be different from the underground cave you’re used to.” Weasley said.

 

“Very much so, but It’s not bad. I’ve gotten used to having to go up twelve flights of stairs to get to my dorm, I think the bedding is worth it.” He let a small, but genuine laugh leave his system, and the others followed. The conversation developed into a light banter after that, and for a moment- Draco forgot about his stress.

 

When dinner concluded and the students began to slowly make their way to the dorms, Draco followed the three without much thought, continuing with their conversation. As they walked into the halls however, Draco’s appearance began to garner some attention. He could hear them beginning to whisper, but nothing too concrete. That is, until they reached the grand staircase.

 

Before he could take a step onto the enchanted stairs and make the annoyingly long trip up to the commons, a voice interjected which made him stop. “Draco? Issat’ you?” He felt his soul crumble again, it was Crabbe. As the voice became clear, Potter, Weasley, and Granger paused too.

He turned his head, seeing a familiar group of people standing just in front of the stairwell which led to the tower. Crabbe, Zabini, Pansy, and Goyle.

 

“Three weeks, Draco. Where’ve you been?” Zabini asked, folding his arms. “-And why were you talking to those  _ losers _ ?”

 

He looked away from guilt, knowing that they’d probably been looking for him since the start of the term, and tried to think of what to say. “About that.” He managed to start.

 

“He’s a blood traitor is what.” Pansy interrupted accusingly. “He’s been rehoused to Gryffindor. I just heard him talking about how much he **_loves_** it up in the towers.” Her voice echoed in the tower, causing the passing students to stop. “He up and disappears for three weeks, only to suddenly be buddy-buddy with that half-blood moron and a _Weasley_! What a joke! ” She pointed towards Weasley and Potter as she mocked them.

“That’s all bullshit and you know it, Pansy. Don’t take my words out of context.” He tried to convince anyone who was listening, but the Slytherins weren’t buying it. He could feel the judgement in their eyes and he frowned.

 

She laughed. “This is what Gryffindor does to a person, I guess. There’s no helping it. Go about mixing with the mudbloods and traitors and you end up like  _ that _ .” 

 

“Pansy.” He hissed. “This isn’t the time, or the place.” The passersby which had been listening in fell into a flurry of low conversation and Draco opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped. It was far too late to convince them that he’d back; that this was all some stupid temporary truce. He wasn’t expecting Pansy to react this way, or start rumors immediately, but with the way she was acting- it would be difficult to gain control of the situation.

 

Potter cleared his throat lightly. “We should go- before this gets out of hand.” He tugged lightly at Draco’s sleeve and he began to turn, taking a step up the tower.

 

“Look at him! Running away with his Gryffindor friends, going up to the lion’s den, I bet. He’s gone soft now, won’t even stand up for himself.” Zabini leered, to which Draco turned and started walking up the stairs with the three. He  _ was _ going up to the lion’s den, in an extremely embarrassed manner.

 

“Seems you were right again, Potter. This really is affecting more than just me.” He said as they ascended the marble stairs. The voice of Umbridge over the magical announcement system blared in the background. “Is this how you felt when I called you names?” He asked.

 

“To some extent. Though you never started a scene out in front of half the student body in the middle of the grand staircase.” He tried to smile, but looked away. “At least you don’t have to worry about hiding anymore, since the entire school knows about it.”  _ ‘Real helpful, Potter. Real helpful.’ _

 

Potter made a point though, it was all out now. He sighed. “When does she get turned into a ferret? Or is that reserved just for me?” Potter and Granger didn’t find it as amusing as Weasley did.

 

“I’m sure it’ll all sort out once your father see to it, yeah? Whatever they say now won’t matter in a couple months anyways.” 

 

“I hope so. If they would’ve just listened- I’ve never seen them so...” 

 

“Aggressive?” Granger finished his sentence.

 

“I was going to say upset, but aggressive works too.” They approached the painting as Draco said this, and he stopped.

 

“Well, thanks for explainin’ the situation and stuff. We were really confused when we saw you an’ Harry talking. No yelling or anything.” Weasley said. Draco was pretty sure it was supposed to be nice, so he nodded along. The redhead turned to face the fat lady, muttering the password, before giving a final wave and a “See you in the dorm, I guess?”

 

Granger too, dipped her head and offered him a smile. “We appreciate you communicating with us, rather than simply resorting to name calling and frustration. It was a nice change of pace.” She then followed Weasley’s path into the common room with her own short wave. 

 

Draco couldn’t place the feeling he was feeling, the lack of stress- the strange fleeting feeling that wasn’t  _ bad _ . He stopped himself from smiling before Potter finally spoke up.

 

“If things were different.” He said. “Dinner is just another example.” He leaned against the wall, putting his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “You aren’t a bad person, Draco. Let’s be friends.” As he said that, he stuck his hand out.

 

“Potter, I think you’ve forgotten about these past 4 years.” Draco drew his own hand back, laughing awkwardly. He shook his head though, and kept his hand out. “You know, all the slapping Granger has done, all the yelling from me and Weasley alike. What about those nasty buttons?”

 

“I haven’t forgotten about the last few years, but you’re going to be stuck with us for the time being anyways. Don’t you think it might be better to have a few friends?” He seemed uncharacteristically cool for a moment, before smiling like an idiot.

 

He looked at Potter’s hand for a long while, which scared him. Maybe Zabini had a point, he was going soft.  _ ‘Giving in right away, that’s sad.’ _ A voice in his head pecked at him.

 

Potter leaned forward and tapped his shoulder, still smiling. “It’s okay if you’re conflicted you know, we’ve been fighting for years now. Don’t you think it’s time to bury the hatchet though?” Draco bit the inside of his mouth. “Plus, I think it would be nice having someone else to talk to. Ron and Hermione are great- but the rest of the house is basically ignoring me.” He continued.

 

_ ‘Man, he must really pity you after what just happened.’ _ The voice in his head said again.  _ ‘I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to make a laughing stock out of your situation.’ _ He felt his chest well up in anxiety.

 

He suddenly gave out an incredulous laugh, faltering for a moment. “Y-you’ve got to be kidding me. This is all some sort of elaborate pity-party right? Or some kind of revenge plan? You can’t possibly  _ actually _ want to be friends with me!” He couldn’t even begin to process the information correctly with the voice in his head actively scratching away, his voice became hoarse. “I mean- look at me!”

 

Potter shook his head quickly. “You aren’t a bad person, Draco, that’s all. I just want to be your friend. I don’t think I need any more reason than that.”

 

Trying to ignore the voice in his head, he thought about it again. Potter wouldn’t gain from being his friend, so he couldn't possibly be lying. He bit his lip and slowly extended his arm. “Just until my father fixes things-” He took a deep breath. “I’ll stick around until then.” He grasped Potter’s hand firmly and received a very enthusiastic handshake. 

“Then it’s a deal!” He exclaimed. 

 

Draco mustered a sheepish smile, his head starting to get overwhelmed with the amount of developments taking place.. “Thanks Potter, for not being an asshole like I’ve been, I guess.”

 

Potter shook his head. “Call me Harry, would you please, Draco?” He smirked and the blonde stopped for a moment. 

 

“I- Alright… Harry.” He then said cautiously. It didn’t feel right considering how he treated him, or how any of it had even gone down, but he complied nonetheless, following him into the common room.

 

He was immediately met with dagger-like stares that stabbed him with every step he took. A low whisper filled the room, and for once it wasn’t about Harry being a nutcase. The false sense of security he just had was demolished. He felt outnumbered and in their territory, wearing their crest. The low murmurs became more apparent as he moved further into room.

 

_ “Wow, that slytherin girl was right, thought I was hearing things.” _

 

_ “Really? A Malfoy? God, that must be embarrassing.” _

 

_ “How’d this happen? Are there seriously rules about this stuff?” _

 

_ “How ridiculous, I can’t believe they’d let him in here.” _

 

_ “Get out of here, Slytherin. Go back to the dungeons.” _

 

They walked up the stairs, ignoring the awfully terrible comments, and finally came to the dorm room. As they walked into the circular room, Draco let out a defeated sigh.

 

“Blimey, only fifteen minutes and the whole house knows.” Weasley said, looking through an orange box his brothers had given him. “That Pansy girl sure knows how to light a fire.”

 

“It was inevitable, we were literally in the middle of the grand staircase.” He drawled, letting himself fall into the bed which he’d been waiting to get back to. “Whatever, it’s done with now anyways.”

 

The three continued to talk that evening, which was very different for Draco as he’d usually just tuck under the covers immediately. To actually add to the conversation felt nice, admittedly. In the back of his mind however, Pansy and Zabini’s words echoed.

 

Was he a blood traitor? It was a ludicrous thought. Him-  _ a Malfoy _ . From a long running family of pure blooded wizards. He was the merging of 2 prestigious families- so was him being in Gryffindor, becoming temporary friends with a half-blooded, rambunctious kid like Harry, wearing the red crest.. Was Pansy right?

After the surprisingly long-winded conversation that last well into the evening, they finally blew out the lanterns and called it for the night. Draco couldn’t help but feel that odd feeling again- but he still couldn’t place it. The stress of hiding was now gone, replaced by the stress of everyone’s judgement, but the damage had been done.

The day had been a long, terribly confusing one. Umbridge setting off a chain reaction which lead to him making an agreement with  _ Harry Potter. _ Someone he’d originally seen as the ‘enemy.’ His brain hurt, the entire house of Gryffindor hated him, and he was sure Slytherin felt the same way.

 

All he could do was continue, and hope that his father received his letters soon. He wasn’t sure just how much more confusing drama he could take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt like such a big chapter haha  
> I wasn't sure if it felt natural or good enough, but then I remembered I'm writing this for fun, so I think it doesn't matter if it's not perfect.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, even if it isn't perfect!
> 
> -Gav <3


	4. The Rise of an Army, the Fall of Draco Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Draco's secret finally revealed to the whole school, and rumors spreading fast, he finds himself becoming more acquainted with Harry's friends. As he integrates into Gryffindor while waiting for a reply from his father, the idea of an Army sparks the mind's of the Golden Trio- which unfortunately drags him along for the ride.
> 
> Faced with an opportunity he never expected he'd be offered so quickly by Harry Potter, he feels his mind begin to change...

Monday afternoon was just the start of the drama that Draco Malfoy faced, igniting the fires of what felt like hell. When he woke up the next morning, he was met with the realisation of just what he got himself into- if the stares of every Gryffindor were any indicator.

When he sauntered down the tower for the first time without a cloak to protect himself, every pair of eyes seemed to follow him.

 

_“Oh god, I thought she was kidding when she told me last night in the dorm.”_ He heard someone utter. _“To think they’d put a Slytherin in here… Why us?”_ He kept his sight focused on the ground in front of him. The anxiety in his chest did not fade when he left the common room, which made him feel even worse. Was he always going to feel this nervous..?

 

He attempted to continue throughout the day as if nothing had changed- attending the classes while ignoring the stares he received from just about every Slytherin he knew. During the break, he tried studying, but got distracted as whispers circulated the library wing he’d settled in.

When lunch rolled around, he had a surprisingly pleasant meal with Harry, Weasley, Granger, and a few others he’d barely met- which was a nice change of pace from the morning block. Afterwards, he faced another class full of similar troubles and tribulations.

 

When he returned to the dorm after his last class, the only place he felt was suitable to actually exist in was the dorm, but even there he felt he was ostracized by Longbottom and Thomas, who’d not gotten much of an explanation as to what had happened rather than the rumors which had spread around the house. Even though he was on good terms with Harry- that didn’t stop any of the other roommates from being off put by his presence, even Weasley.

 

With every amount of unnerving anxiety that seemed to wash over him, he reminded himself;  _ ‘Soon it’ll be fixed, and soon I won’t have to worry about this.’ _ Which gave him some peace of mind, if anything.

 

As the week flew by with similar remarks and stares following him, he began to make his awkward attempts at befriending the others in Harry’s circle. Who else would he be hanging around since the whole school seemed to hate him at the moment? Harry often tried to make Draco feel less alienated when he did make his efforts towards the others, which he was grateful for, even if it was temporary.

Harry was just as ostracised for the Dark Lord business at the tournament last year, so Draco felt like maybe he did understand the situation. Seeing someone else get whispered about made him feel less alone- if he had to place the feeling.

 

By the end of the week, Granger subsequently became Hermione, Weasley to Ron, and They began to call him Draco, rather than Malfoy. While Draco wasn’t exactly  _ stellar _ about the whole situation, Harry’s pushy attitude made it hard for him not to join in and become apart of the conversations.

It surprised everyone, including himself, just how easily he integrated into Harry’s circle of friends- and how easily he became ‘comfortable’ with Gryffindor, once the other students got used to him wandering around the commons and stopped whispering about him to his face.

 

An evening on the second week after the unfortunate reveal of his identity, Draco found himself lounging in one of the numerous frumpy armchairs littered about the messy common room- reading a rather ‘ _ interesting’ _ chapter from one of his textbooks.

 

“This is so frustratingly impossible. I don’t understand how they expect us to handle the sheer stupidity from this book much longer.” Hermione tossed the book to the table and leaned into the couch, just across from where Draco was sitting.. “We can’t just sit around while  **_He’s_ ** out there! People are starting to disappear, you know.”

 

“Not like that’s going to stop them.” Harry said coldly. “Dark Lord doesn’t even exist anymore according to Umbridge.” He strained his eyes as he tried to flip through the book himself before letting out an exasperated sigh, putting his copy on top of Hermione’s.

 

Hermione looked as if she was about explode from the frustration of the situation, and Draco could feel the palpitation of her anger from behind his own reading. He sighed. “Do what everyone else does then, if you’re so unhappy.” He said lightly, not even looking up from the paragraph he was scanning. He didn’t really care either way, but the complaining was starting to get repetitive.

 

They all glanced over at him, confused. The silence was filled with the low rumble of the radio which spat out ridiculous stories about Azkaban Prison, which only made the tension rise. “What’re you getting at, Draco?” Ron, who'd just been nodding along to the frustration, finally piped up.

 

“Usually,” He lowered his book, sitting up from the reclined position he had been in. “When you can’t do something because someone told you not to do it, you..” He lead into the answer, waiting for them to process it. He frowned when they continued to stare, waiting comically for him to finish. “You do it anyways- just behind their backs.” They let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “If you want to actually learn defense spells, hold your own dumb classes or whatever.” 

 

“Of course! Rule breaking!” Hermione crossed her arms. “But you have a point, Draco. Not like there are a slew of other options...” She stood up and looked through the window, the glass pounded by rain. “At this point, with everything out there… We really  _ do _ need to take this into our own hands. We do have the resources...” 

 

Draco returned to his book, rolling his eyes as she spoke, letting the three trifle through the idea themselves. He still didn’t  _ really _ believe the Dark Lord was back, and simply listened and would occasionally make a snide remark when they had a ridiculous idea. Who on Earth would want to join  _ Dumbledore’s Army? _ The concept of a secret defense class was laughable at best, and when he mentioned it- he meant it as a joke.

It was well into the witching hours when the finally broke off and headed up to the dorms- and the concept of a secret club became more plausible with ever step they took.

 

Draco didn’t really want to join any ‘Dumbledore’s Army.’ It was bad enough being stuck in Gryffindor, where the only people who didn’t ignore him with a scowl were Harry, Hermione, and Ron (and his roommates, but that was different.) But if he were to join some secret vigilante student organisation? If anyone, especially his father were to find out, it would be the end of it. 

 

He woke up that morning to an invitation, Harry sitting on his own bed reading in the morning light. When Draco began to move from under the sheets, he cleared his throat, green eyes staring him down. “What is it, Harry?” He asked, voice cracking from having just woken up.

 

“This weekend we’re going to hold a recruitment meeting in Hogsmeade for anyone wanting to join the DA.” He said with an unusually factual tone. “Since you hung around last night, I was wondering if you wanted to come with us. You don’t have to join, of course, but it would be cool if you were there.”

 

Draco blinked, then laughed a small, incredulous laugh. “Right, because you’d definitely want  _ me _ hanging around while you’re trying to convince people to join your secret club.” He swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, stretching, finally starting to wake up. “You’re trying to get members, not scare them off.”

 

“You aren’t going to scare anyone off.” He stated flatly. “And  you seemed mildly interested last night, that’s why I asked.” He shrugged. “You  _ did _ sort of come up with the idea, y’know?”

 

Draco sighed at the thought of being affiliated with the DA, seeing as he was completely satire in his remarks when he suggested the idea in the first place. “I don’t see a point in being there, since I’ve no intention of joining your little  _ soiree _ .” As he spoke he slipped on his vest and popped the collar of the dress shirt he’d thrown on, fishing for a tie in his space. 

“That’s understandable, I get it. I just thought y’know...” Harry looked a slight bit disappointed as he trailed off, which made Draco frown. Before he could say anything else- he cut him off.

 

“Alright fine, If you’re so set on having me tag along, I’ve nothing better to do during the weekend I suppose... But I’m only attending for ‘moral support’ or whatever.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he changed his mind, but he let the words leave his mouth before he could really think, throwing up quotations around ‘moral’ and ‘support’ as if it could have any other connotation.

 

Harry’s face lit up a little and he nodded. “Moral support?” He laughed. “Okay sure, sounds good to me.” He got off the bed and set the book down, patting his trousers off. “I’m going to head down to breakfast now, but I’ll see you in divination?” He was noticeably more elated when he agreed to go with them.  _ ‘Is this what friendship is like with Gryffindors?’ _ He couldn’t place a single moment where any of his own friends had acted this way when he agreed to hang out with them. 

 

Finally finding a tie, Draco nodded again, dispelling his thoughts. “See you in Divination.” He replied. The dormroom became empty, save for his own likeness, as he dug through his trunk to find a cloak. 

 

_ ‘Long week’ _ He thought.  _ ‘This is going to be a long week.’ _

 

A long week it was, as Draco continued, or stumbled, along a monotonous schedule for 3 stretched days. Whether the slow trickle of inquisitorial rules which were hung up in front of the great hall which further drowned everyone’s spirits, or his bountiful evasions of detention with  _ multiple _ teachers (seeing as a few select weren’t very happy with him, or his  _ situation. _ )

 

When the weekend arrived and the doors of the castle opened for the first time, enticing the students to finally escape from Umbridge’s self-made hell, Draco met up with the trio as discreetly as he could, not knowing  _ what _ exactly they were planning to do for this ‘meeting.’ He shoved his hands into the pockets of an expensive blazer he’d shoved into his packing last minute, shoes clicking against the stone brick.

 

“Blimey Draco, we aren’t going to a funeral.” Ron said immediately as he approached. They were all dressed in what Draco could only describe as having  _ muggle  _ written all over it, jackets and jeans and the sort of clothing his Mother despised.

 

“Well, It’s the only stuff I brought that wasn’t uniform-related.” He retorted, the group walking down the path towards the gate. “My family isn’t really known for wearing stuff like…  _ That _ .” He pointed to Ron’s scarf, which he assumed was hand-knit.

 

The conversation continued with lighthearted topics and  _ possibly _ making fun of Draco’s clothing habits, but it didn’t bother him as much as it might’ve. 

They took the path down to Hogsmeade by carriage and onto the main street, turning precisely two paths down until reaching an inn that nested in the unassuming, quiet part of the village. The rickety building was dodgy to say the least, and the creaking of the door drew attention from many barely seen faces of the similarly scary patrons.

 

“Very… quaint.” Draco uttered.

 

“It won’t draw much attention.” Hermione said, walking into the pub with some sort of dignity. “Come, we’re using the back room.” The four shuffled awkwardly through the bar, ignoring the stares of the shady customers.  _ ‘If this doesn’t scare the recruits off, I’m pretty sure they won’t be too worried about me.’ _ Draco thought, feeling his nerves fray.

 

“Who’s meeting us? I invited a few people myself but..” Harry asked in a low voice as they reached the back room. “I mean, what if I can’t do this? How many people are going to be depending on me teaching them?”

 

“Just a few people. Nothing bigger than a normal double-potions class.” Hermione reassured him, but that was still a lot of people. Harry took a deep breath, and they settled in the near-empty room, waiting for the invitees to converge. Draco felt very misplaced, sitting behind the table with the three as if he  _ actually _ had something to do with all of it, but it was better than wandering around the Gryffindor Commons and the castle all day and potentially having to speak to people he’d  _ rather not. _

 

The students slowly began to appear, one by one, and within ten minutes- there were well over 30 people sitting impatiently on the benches in the room, and Draco could only place a few names to a few faces.

 

“You all know why we’re here. We need a teacher. A real one.” Hermione said after the room settled. “That’s why I’ve invited you all here.”

 

The group was sceptical, questioning everything that the three said as they stood in front of them. Most of them didn’t believe that the Dark Lord really had returned, or questioned the usefulness of ‘extra lessons.’ The back-and-forth questioning led to comments about Cedric Diggory, which made the room fill with an uneasy air.

 

“Is it true you can cast a patronus?” A small, light voice piped up amongst the doubt of the group. Luna Lovegood, Draco could barely recognise her from the Thestral Cart ride they’d taken at the beginning of the year.

 

Hermione nodded. “I’ve seen it. It’s incredibly powerful.” As she said that, the interest of the group began to shift again.

 

“He’s years ahead of any of us, and he’s going to run this whole thing.” Ron said, which made Harry tense up a little as eyes all landed on him.

 

“I know for a fact that the Dark Lord has risen again.” Harry said quietly. “I was there, despite the doubt you all have.” He wrung his hands as he spoke. “Being in a defense class and really being out in the world are two completely different things… In one, you find you can just keep trying- keep studying… In the other, you will find yourself dead.” His voice got even softer as he said that. “That’s why we want to form the DA.” 

He paced across the creaking floorboards. “In a real battle, there will be times where you, or someone you love is inches from death… And in a real battle, there’s a chance you won’t be able to save them, or yourself.”

 

Draco felt his head swim for a moment as he spoke, the images of death running past his psyche.  _ ‘Is he… right?’ _ His chest twinged up, anxiety poking at him.  _ ‘He couldn’t possibly be lying. The way he described it… as if he knew...’ _ In his mind, it clicked in that very moment, and he took a deep breath.

 

“Still don’t believe the absolute bull you’re spouting. Of course your friends are going to stick up for you.” A Ravenclaw interrupted everyone’s thoughts loudly. “Still doesn’t change the fact that you’re all a load of nutcases.”

 

The room fell back into dissuasion and mixed feelings, and the low whispers made the three loose faith they could get the DA to work, and Draco swallowed the last amount of doubt in his mind. 

“Well, even if he is a nutcase, I believe him.” He said, arms crossed. The room had seemed to forget he was even there, taken aback at the fourth voice from the front of the room. “-and trust me, I wouldn’t back him up on such a ridiculous plan unless I truly did.”

 

The whispers ceased, the room was surprised to find him present at the meeting, and even more surprised that he was actually  _ supporting _ the idea of a DA, and Hermione pitched in when she saw the opportunity. “Even if you don’t believe any of us.” She gestured to the four, including herself. “That doesn’t excuse Umbridge’s teaching methods. Even if you never find yourself in combat- we all need to arm ourselves against the Dark Lord- no- Voldemort. _ ” _ She let the weight of her words rest on the group.

 

The sound of rustling and benches moving against legs as people began to stand up filled the room- approaching the table to the sign-up sheet. Those who couldn’t handle the idea of the DA got up and left, and the line of convinced kids waited eagerly to jot their name down.

Kids from second to sixth year all signed on, numerous signatures which were in all sorts of handwriting filled the parchment that Harry had quickly written up only a few hours prior. After the final member signed her name and exited the room with a confident smile on her face, Harry turned to Draco.

 

“‘Believe me now’, then?” He grinned. “‘Even if I am a nutcase?’ ‘Such a ridiculous plan?’ How kind, Draco.” His wide smirk made Draco roll his eyes.

 

“You weren’t doing too well on your own, looked like. Thought I might step in and help.” He explained, getting up from the uncomfortably  _ prickly _ chair he’d been watching from. 

 

“How thoughtful, Draco, whatever would we do without your gracious and unlimited power?” Hermione joked, picking up the list. Before she could scan it however, Ron murmured something to her and she sighed, handing Harry the list before picking up her bag she’d set on the table. “Fred and George said they wanted to show Ronald something on main street, but seems like I have to tag along with him.” They made their way to the worn-out door. “We’ll see you both back at the commons.”

 

“Yeah. We’ll need to come up with some potential spots for training when we get back.” Harry waved them off, and as they stumbled through the pub again his hand grazed over the freshly dried ink. 

 

“29 signatures. That’s quite a sizable class. I’d call that quite a success.” Draco complimented, scanning the page over his shoulder. He didn’t know most of the people listed, and the handwriting was  _ less than adequate _ on a number of signs, but it was a triumph of a  recruitment meeting to say the least.

 

Harry didn’t any anything for a moment, as if processing what Draco said, eyes still fixated on the paper. He then looked over his shoulder, and smiled. “Would you like to make it 30?” He asked.

 

_ ‘Make it 30?’ _ Draco thought, not quite processing what he’d just proposed. When he did process it, the mixed feelings in his stomach turned over. “You really don’t need my hanging around your secret club, I won’t be doing the group any favours.” He finally said. 

 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you joining, you’d be a great addition.” He set the paper down on the table next to the quill. “It’s not a matter of lack of skill, is it?” He questioned coyly.

 

Draco shook his head quickly. “I’m sure my skills are adequate enough for the DA- I’m just not entirely sure the other members would want an ex-slytherin running around. Pansy’s rumors haven’t been doing me any favours with anyone.”

 

“All the more reason to join, then. You’d be able to clear your name with the members, practice defense magic, and you’d have something to do rather than avoid talking to people who spread rumors about you.” He leaned back on the table as he listed the seemingly numerous reasons why Draco should even  _ consider _ joining, all of which were actually quite  _ decent _ claims. 

 

“Right, and then I’d be stuck with a bunch of people I don’t know learning spells for a threat which at this point, I’m still unsure of. I know you aren’t  _ lying _ , but I still can’t wholeheartedly say I trust that he’s returned  _ for good. _ ” Draco retorted. “Plus, if either of my parents found out about me joining some ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ they’d probably think you’d brainwashed me into your agenda against the ministry.” He averted his eyes to try and lessen the feeling of turning in his stomach.  _ ‘None of this is permanent anyways.’ _ He reminded himself.

 

Harry looked down at the ground and sighed. “I know you came here to be ‘moral support’ but I thought I’d at least try again and ask.” He kicked his leg out in idle silence. “I know you aren’t going to be in Gryffindor forever either- so I thought the DA could also be a way to be able to stay connected after you’re rehoused, y’know? You are our friend after all, despite what happened before. Even Ginny’s taken a liking to you since you’ve started sitting with us.”

 

Draco was stumped. He couldn’t just say  _ ‘Haha sorry Harry, but it’s still a no thank you’ _ after he pulled such a reason as  _ wanting to still hang out, even after his situation was fixed. _ The thought of what would happen to his current connections after he was rehoused barely crossed his mind- especially under the notion of  _ continuing to be friends. _

In every excuse he made to himself, he would remind himself that everything he was doing was temporary and had little effect on his life after he would be rehoused back to Slytherin. He’d never considered the idea that Harry Potter would want to continue being friends, even after he got his green tie back, and it absolutely stumped him.

The idea of other people actually taking a liking to him, and not just the obnoxiously witty Mr Potter made him confused, the idea of someone actively wanting to be his friend even after everything.  _ Just what exactly was he supposed to say? _

 

Draco then stared at the paper, a small line just under Hannah Abbott was waiting to be filled. ‘ _ It might not be the worst thing in the world, Harry does make fair points.’ _ He thought, eyes drilling into the paper. “To think the day would come when I’d have Harry Potter asking me to join Dumbledore’s Army…” He murmured, a small awkward chuckle leaving his body.

 

“To think the day would come when I’d be inviting Draco Malfoy to join Dumbledore’s Army.” Harry responded in a similarly soft voice. “To think you’d actually consider.” He then added with a laugh.

 

_ ‘It’s not like my parents would ever find out, it  _ **_is_ ** _ a secret club, after all.’ _ He considered in his head.  _ ‘-and maybe… even after I’m rehoused… it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have friends like Harry and Ron and Hermione.’ _ Their energies were so much more different from what he was used to with Blaise or Pansy- and maybe that was good? He felt conflicted.

 

He let out a deep sigh, taking a step towards the table. “I’ll have you know, Harry. I’m relatively skilled, so I don’t know how much I’ll actually be able to get from your lessons.” He finally filled the silence. “But the more I think about it, the more worries dissipate. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.” He grabbed the quill gingerly, placing it against the parchment before swirling it around in a fluid fashion- his name filling the space at the foot of the paper.

 

After the ink dried, the two exited the scarily rickety pub. Harry’s face sporting a wide smile as he practically talked Draco’s ear off with the ideas he, Ron and Hermione had thought of. Listing off places they could possibly practice at, his first lesson plan, all the small details he’d been imagining during class. He was clearly enthusiastic. Draco nodded along- a small smile on his face which he couldn’t quite get rid of. 

The two met back up with Ron and Hermione on the main street, where they made absolutely  _ no _ mention of just what exactly they had seen. With the light of midday hitting them, they boarded one of the numerous carriages back to the castle. Hermione couldn’t believe what she’d read when Harry passed her the member list and saw Draco’s name elegantly written at the bottom. Her surprise was a positive type of surprise, a small smile accompanying her reaction- and Ron’s was similar… in his own way.

 

“I’m sure you’ll find the experience more riveting that that damned beginners defense book.” Hermione said. “I know I will, despite my skills being quite adequate already.” 

“Least you won’t accidentally run into Pansy while you’re at it, y’know? Gives us something to do.” Ron then added.  _ ‘Us,’ _ Draco repeated in his head,  _ ‘as in all of us.’ _ Whatever it was that he meant by this brief thought, it made him smile just a little again, even with the new stressful idea of being in  _ Dumbledore’s Army _ which he was actively choosing to ignore in the back of his mind.

 

When the carriage finally stopped at the gates of the grandiose school, they checked back in and climbed the stairs, exchanging vague ideas about just where they could hold meetings or whatever else was on their minds. As the passed through the halls quietly- a rule prohibited all students from speaking above a whisper as to not disturb classes- they ascended the grand staircase up to the Gryffindor tower. 

Before they could actually reach the commons however, a loud voice disrupted the entire school. 

 

**“All student organisations are henceforth disbanded. Any Clubs or Organisations wishing to form or reform must be approved by the High Inquisitor. Any noncompliance students will be expelled immediately.”**

 

They looked at each other with a long sigh, the relatively lighthearted mood ruined simply by the voice of Umbridge.

“I’m sure she heard us mention something in the time it took to get from the grounds all the way up here. That’s ridiculous.” Hermione said firmly after the painting swung open. “The speed at which she can produce these decrees is absolutely insane.”

“And now all the clubs are disbanded? Doesn’t that include quidditch teams?” Ron asked, following down the hall into the main common area, which was almost empty, given most students were still at Hogsmeade or having lunch.

 

Draco sighed. “That’s not going to stop the DA though, right?” 

Harry shook his head. “It sure won’t.”

  
  


Later on that week, the four were sitting around the table just in front of the fireplace, regrouping after  few days of studying and classes, making space between one meeting and the next. Ginny joined them to think. They needed to come up with a meeting place sooner, rather than later.

 

“Somewhere that can accomodate.” Ginny mumbled to herself. “Somewhere Umbridge wouldn’t find us.. But also accessible to everyone at any time.”

Ron slumped into the couch and sighed, Hermione still gazing over the map in hopes of finding anything they hadn’t seen in the first place. Harry and Draco sat on the couch as well- quietly observing- and the rest of Gryffindor house bustled by on their way to the dorms or the study room, most of them not even knowing what they were muttering about.

 

“Neville’s approaching.” Hermione reported, watching the footprints on the map move slowly towards the room. “Looks like he’s in an awfully fast rush, do you think he thought of something?” She looked at the others.

 

It had been over 5 days since the DA was founded, and not a single member had an idea for practicing locations. The organisation had quickly set up a string of key words to use in quick Owl messages that wouldn’t make much sense to the common outsider- but no one had any ideas as to where they could possibly meet. 

Draco wouldn’t lie to himself- he was slightly disappointed. His whole rehousing punishment and rehab felt like a fever dream he couldn’t wake up from. The idea of rebelling against Umbridge and the ministry in a secret army would never have surfaced in Slytherin- but here it came almost naturally to him to think about. He felt like he was being whisked away on a ride- but now the ride had stopped and it was far less exciting. 

 

Neville came in not too long after Hermione mentioned it- slightly red in the face and out of breath as he stumbled into the tower. “Guys.” He huffed out. “I think I’ve found it.” He took a moment to breathe before gesturing them to follow him. 

They came down the steps with a slight hop in their step before reaching an empty wall. As soon as Neville approached, the wall began to shift and groan; turning into a door.

 

“The room of requirement.” Hermione murmured. “Brilliant Neville.”

 

Harry smiled and clasped his hands together as they entered the room, spacious and ready for use. “It’s as if Hogwarts  _ knows _ . It wants us to fight back!” He exclaimed, pacing down the room with an almost bewildered look in his eyes.

 

Draco was astounded by the sheer size of the room, the vaulted ceilings and the glossy mirrored walls which almost looked like windows, and the fact that he had never actually  _ seen _ the room of requirement- only heard about it. 

Still feeling like he was stuck in a hazy dream, he decided maybe this wasn’t a completely terrible decision to make. The contagious excitement had spread to him- and if anything- it would get him away from the things that seemed to be ruining him the most at the moment. No matter- at least he’d have something to do with his…  _ friends _ now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took a bit longer than the other updates so far, I've been both editing the chapters and writing new ones so It's been pretty wack. There were some unfortunately mean comments which also discouraged me a little, since I hardly post/work on large-term projects like this one, so I'm sorry for the delay!
> 
> The other comments have been filled with a bunch of amazing questions and analysis which I've loved reading, so thanks to everyone who's keeping me on my toes and making me think about my work as we continue on in the story! 
> 
> This chapter really marks the beginning of change within Draco's mindset- so I'm excited to bring the next few chapters... which have some very interesting scenes and ideas behind them.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes, problems with canon, or anything of the sort!!! I'm really trying my best here to make some chapters, but I'm not very good with dialogue or script... ;;;


	5. The Penultimate Fever Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's fever dream continues as be goes against everything he'd do if he'd never been moved. The inquisitorial squad is formed and all Draco can think about it how he's somehow grateful he isn't with them.
> 
> During the meetings of the DA, he begins to become more acquainted with other members, and the stigma over his head begins to lift- and as he slowly gets accepted into the group, his mindset changes.
> 
> That is- until something rather unsettling arrives.

With the help of owls, secret codes, and word spreading around the castle at the speed of light- the DA had no trouble organising their first meeting in the room of requirement. The group had decided it to be on a Saturday- to ease them into the lessons that Harry had been planning with great enthusiasm.

 

Draco, of course, had his doubts on whether or not this was a good idea _at all._ Most of his anxieties and concerns had disappeared when he picked up the quill and wrote his name down, but there were lingering nerves that frayed him.

 

What if his parents _did_ find out?  They’d say he was brainwashed into the plan to overthrow the minister or something of similar degree… This wasn’t very _rule-abiding_ either, and he was still on his stupid “rehabilitation” or whatever- as much as he tried to forget. If the teachers found out he was in a secret club, who knows what would happen? Bad things, most likely.

He was also concerned with the rest of the DA, whom he either barely knew or had never met before. He wasn’t exactly popular among the student populous- especially with the Slytherins now calling him a blood-traitor or otherwise, and he didn’t want to start anything with them because of it.

 

Besides the anxiety, Draco was excited. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, the idea of the DA made him eager. He was doing something so _out-of-the-loop_ he couldn’t help the pit feeling of enthrallment.

  


The weekend finally came, and Draco awoke in the frumpy, soft gryffindor bed he’d come to actually find comforting. He took a moment to fully wake himself up, and pulled a grey sweater adorned in maroon and gold over his white dress shirt, sliding his uniform pants on afterwards. He then tried to neaten up his corner of the dorm room- which simply ended with him shoving everything into his trunk quickly. Afterwards, he finally made his way down to the common room.

 

He gave short nods to the few people he’d become acquainted with over the weeks he’d been in Gryffindor before having a short- and terribly _flat_ \- conversation with his prefect. Afterwards he made hiw way down to the great hall for breakfast.

 

“-what I’m saying is that whatever _nargles_ are, I seriously doubt they’re infesting Umbridge’s stupid pink coat.” Ron’s voice was easily picked out of the crowd in the room as he sat down next to Hermione.

 

“Where else would they go?” Harry laughed. “Can’t imagine a more suitable place, after all.”

 

Draco grabbed a few pieces of toast as they argued over _nargles-_ whatever those were- and scanned the pages of the Daily Prophet which had been strewn across the table. Still going on about Dumbledore and the ‘seriously falling standard at Hogwarts.’ He rolled his eyes.

 

“You two, enough about those things already, we all know they aren’t real.” Hermione finally groaned, looking up from her own reading.

 

They both stopped mid sentence, taking a second to pause. “Well, anyways.” Ron said. “How was Quidditch practice yesterday? Kept you out late didn't it?” He took a sip of water and stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth.

 

“Terrible. Angelina wasn’t even running a real practice. We basically got told off by Umbridge for god knows how long and barely got on our brooms.” He complained. “It’s not really quidditch now, it’s just…”

 

“Another detention, sounds like.” Draco mumbled between chews of his own food. “Good thing I’m not on the team.” He let a small chuckle leave his system.

 

“You should be glad- It really did feel like detention!” Harry rested his head on the table with an annoyed exhale. “Well, I guess it can’t all be bad, at least my _actual_ detentions have been lightening up a little. Plus _you know what_ ’s going to happen later today.” His hand traced the wood of the table as he spoke.

 

They all looked at each other for a second, expressing what they meant through quick looks, who knows who’d be listening in on the _important_ stuff. “Yeah, well.” Draco finally broke the silence, his voice quiet as he could possibly make it in the loud hall. “I’m actually quite excited, despite my predispositions wit-”

His voice was cut off by the powerful draft that picked up as the morning flurry of mail owls ran their course through the great hall and filled the room with the sounds of letters opening- and some _rather unfortunate_ howlers which Draco paid no mind to simply out of pity. They watched with little interest as the owls dipped overhead- until a sleek black owl swooped down and landed just next to Draco’s plate. “ _Minuit_?” His surprise was audible at the sight of the bird.

 

“Fancy bird, Draco.” Ron blurted out as the owl ruffled its feathers, placing the letter onto the table. It was addressed for him. He swallowed, not knowing just what it could be- _was it..?_ For some reason, the idea of his father writing to him made his stomach drop. “Well go on, what is it Draco?” The group seemed to lean forward a little in anticipation- simply out of boredom of the lull of the day.

 

He opened the grey stationary and slid out a crisply folded letter, when his fingers ran across the paper, he felt a sense of relief wash over him when his pale eyes grazed over the paper. It was his mother’s handwriting. The elegant green ink which flowed across the surface was similar to his own handiwork, and he scanned the text with haste. ‘ _How expected.’_ He thought.

 

“It’s just an update from my mother.” He finally concluded to the group. “Stuff about my father’s work, and when he’d finally be able to come and fix this ‘rehousing’ mess that’s been going on for so long.” He tossed the letter to the middle of the table, shrugging. “Barely any word from him, but according to her, he should be home for holidays.” He scratched the bird’s head.

 

“Speaking of that.” Hermione said, head tilted just slightly. “There isn’t much on the special circumstances of hogwarts discipline available to read- but I’m curious as to why your mother hasn’t done anything about this? I mean, your mother is equally responsible for you.”

 

“It’s not a matter of parents or guardians, actually.” He sighed. “According to the rules they had me sit through, the only people who could have any say in the matter are school officials, or in whatever godforsaken case, the ministry.” His voice seemed to pan off into monotone expression as he recited the passage that they’d read from the dusty old book in the headmasters’ office.

 

“I guess it really would be up to your father at that point then, right?” Harry said, still tracing the table’s surface.

  
“Precisely, and it says he’s going to be back _mid december_.” He groaned. “What am I supposed to say? By that time the Slytherins probably won’t even care that I’d be back, they’d still call me a blood traitor or whatever.”

 

The three seemed to fall silent for a moment.  “Does it really matter what they think?” Ron asked without too much thought.

Draco didn’t respond, and they didn’t bring it up again in the conversation, letting it fall back into an almost satire conversation about things that didn’t really matter.

 

The day was stretched and long- with every hour of anticipation making the group grow even more ansty. Draco tried to find ways to waste idle time with studying or short-handed conversations with others in the house as he found himself pacing the commons. By midafternoon, he’d read all about the history of magic in ancient rome, talked with most of the Weasleys about _god knows what_ , and had an awfully awkward conversation with Neville.

Finally, with the toll of the large clock which beamed below the tower, he took a deep breath and tried to make his way down to the room of requirement with absolutely _no_ attention being drawn to him- which was hard when every passing Slytherin actively chose to glare at him from down the halls when he took a few steps out of the tower. When he did manage to slip into the corridor unnoticed, the doors’ intricate carvings etched themselves into the wall and cracked open for him.

 

The room was already decently populated by the time he’d arrived, doors forming from other sides of the wide training hall which made way for other arriving students. He found himself sticking himself to the walls with little interest in trying to make friends with the students whom seemed to be surprised, if not mildly agitated, by his presence, and watched the group form until all 30 members stood.

 

“Alright everyone, welcome to the first meeting of the DA.” Harry started, Draco could tell he was straining his voice to make sure it didn’t crack in front of the group, awkwardly standing in front of the group with little confidence- despite Draco knowing he was capable of a ridiculous level of it.

 

“Today we’re going to start simple with some of the basics. If you’ve got them down, you’ll only have to do it a few times as demonstration before going onto a more in-depth study, everyone who might not have these basics down- which is completely fine- we’ll be working hard on making sure we can build up the foundational skills.”

 

He directed the group to form lines, pulling Ron to perform a few examples of the most basic spells he could list off- Expelliarmus, Rictusempra, and Stupefy. Telling everyone to pair off quickly to practice the spells while he’d go around and examine the groups.

 

Draco hesitated at the notion of groupings, but eventually found his way to Luna Lovegood- whom he knew to remember- but had never spoken to before. She was a bit of an oddball herself, so they ended up being last-pick partners.

 

“Nice to meet you, Draco.” Her voice was light and fluttery and he dipped his head in response.

“Likewise.” He murmured quietly. After exchanging their pleasantries- they bowed to begin their duel and began exchanging magical blows. Luna was alright, if not a little hesitant with her spellwork. When Harry made his way over to them, he seemed to notice that too- showing her how to follow through with the spells more confidently.

He smiled when she shot off a spell which sent Draco’s wand across the room far further than he’d expected. “Good work! Keep that in mind while you’re practicing.” He said enthusiastically, patting her on the back while Draco collected his wand had been thrown. “Draco, your turn.” Harry then said, and he picked up his wand.

 

With a simple flourish and an inaudible utter of ‘expelliarmus’ he felt the familiar feeling of energy rush through him and extend from the tip of his wand- flying across the room with accuracy he greatly prided in. Luna’s wand flew into the air an a dramatic manner before landing on some poor saps’ head.

 

“Impressive, casting without verbal command.” Harry said in a teacher-ly voice. “I think your flourished just a _little_ too much though, can’t have someone’s head getting hit every time, right?” He smiled. Draco looked away with a small amount of embarrassment and let out a deep exhale.

“Alright, I’ll work on that then.” He said quietly.

“-Well rather than that I thought the execution was very professional and clean!” Harry quickly added. “Non-verbal casting too, there isn’t too much room for error with you, and the flourishes are sort of a _personal_ thing anyways, so-” It was clear what Harry was doing, and Draco gave him a reassuring nod to try and calm his nerves.

“It’s okay Harry. You’re doing fine.” He said.

 

The afternoon continued along a similar path as Draco and the others who obviously knew what they were doing were working to perfect the spells while Harry stuck to assisting the younger students. As the class continued, Harry grew more confident which made it far less awkward when he tried giving feedback to people, and Draco tried to get more comfortable around being in a large group.

When the meeting ended, they gathered at the alcove of the room where Harry had set up tables and a mirror and a few other things, and he talked about his plans and announcements, then the group broke for dinner.

Waiting for Harry and the others, Draco stuck around the room- trying to not stick out _too_ much as the others talked and caught up before leaving, and was surprised when Luna gave him a simple “See you later, Draco!” Which caught him off guard. He wasn’t expecting _that_ , despite it being such a simple phrase. Maybe the fact that he’d been ostracized for well over a _month_ now made simple exchanges seem so surprisingly different, and the fact that he wasn’t getting shit for once.

The four finally headed down for dinner once every student successfully left the room without Umbridge screaming at them, and that night Draco had an odd feeling in his body he couldn’t quite place. Whether good, or not, he wasn’t going to think too hard on it, and he seemed to all but worry in the moment.

  
  


With every passing day that went by, and every passing meeting that was held, the DA grew more powerful than Draco had expected from a ragtag club of students.

They slowly moved away from fundamentals to focus on more powerful spells like _Reductor,_ or _Petrificus Totalus_ . As they did, the mild stigma that had been looming over Draco’s head seemed to lighten, until he felt that _maybe_ they saw past the rumors that had been spread. He found that members began to wish him well and greet him in the beginnings of practice, remembering his name and treating him with a surprisingly kind attitude, something he’d never expected with his current situation.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed with how the organisation grew each passing week, and how competent Harry turned out to be when teaching the students and how they could improve. He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of the group- despite only having just learned all of their names, and only befriending a few of them. He’d be lying if he said he regretted joining too.

 

Besides the exciting developments which happened within the first few weeks of operation within the DA, there were a few _far less exciting_ developments that took place. Unfavourable by most- seeing as seemingly _no one_ Draco knew liked anything Umbridge did, the High Inquisitor created a group of students called the ‘inquisitorial squad,’ which he assumed was just a glorified hall-monitor position for extra credit. He and the others suspected that the squad’s actual purpose was to investigate and find the lucrative _secret weapon_ that the ministry thought Dumbledore was hiding from them, or in real life case, they assumed they were searching for the DA.

 

He knew that Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, and Pansy were on this Squad. He knew that a number of his old friends were now currently searching for an organisation he helped to create, and he knew that it wouldn’t be good if they _were_ caught by the squad, despite how unlikely it was. When the looks in their eyes caught his in the halls, their shiny new badges imposing threat to the students as if they were prefects, he began to truly think that perhaps his old friends weren’t very good people at all, and that even when he did get rehoused, he probably wouldn’t stick _too_ close to them.

He didn’t like how they seized the power as soon as it arrived, and he didn’t like that they were obviously driven by motives to gain trust with the Inquisitor. The actions they took confused him- even if he knew that he’d be doing the same if he hadn’t been moved. _If he hadn’t been moved?_ He shook the thought.

  


Only a few weeks before holiday break, the DA began work on the patronus charm- the one godforsaken thing Draco still couldn’t wrap his head around. He realised very quickly on in the meeting that he could not cast a Patronus, or summon up a memory powerful enough to do so. Being surrounded by so many members who seemed to conjure up happy memories as if it were a common commodity made him off-put, trying to follow suit with their pace.

His mother was his first choice, a refined and caring woman who watched over him. Every other aspect of his life had been flipped upside down or otherwise, so he couldn’t really imagine _Slytherin_ being a viable memory to pick. When he attempted to cast the spell- eyes closed and his concentration far greater than he’d ever had to focus on a spell- he summoned all the best memories he could, and allowed the energy to flow and carry through the spell. The result of his concentration was a sad puttering spew of light from the tip of his wand and then nothing more.

The next few tries were just as unsuccessful.

 

After what felt like _a century_ of practice, the best he could manage was a small, dim veil which couldn’t do _anything_ in a real situation, and he let out a loud, frustrated groan. The room was full of bright and whimsical animals and the sounds of cheer and astonishment- and all he could do was watch.

 

“Not going well?” A voice poked from behind.

“Not at all, unfortunately.” A bitter voice replied.

Harry stood next to Draco, arms crossed as the two watched the class at work- summoning creatures of pure light and joy. “It’s okay if you’re having trouble you know. Everyone has that one spell they can’t quite get at first.”

Draco kicked the stone brick floor and laughed. “Right. Doesn’t make it any less frustrating. I’m supposed to be good at this whole ‘magic’ thing.”

Harry nodded his head along and shrugged. “That’s true, but Hermione was never any good with flying. No one’s perfect, and that includes you too.” He offered a smile.

“But this is different, flying is… Well it’s not Charms.” He stared at his wand, a stern face of frustration on his face

 

“Well, what are you thinking of?” Harry asked, putting his hand in the pocket of his pants. “Maybe I can help you out.”

Draco paused for a moment, stopping himself from rejecting the offer. “Mostly my memories with my mother.” He sighed. “My life’s been very chaotic as of late, so not a lot of other things are necessarily bringing me joy.”

“Not strong enough to form a patronus?” He asked.

The blonde shook his head slowly. “No, most of the memories are muddled or fuzzy, it’s been awhile since the last time we had a nice outing.”

Harry hummed as he thought for a second, watching the room. “Well, clearly that hasn’t worked. Have you tried something more recent? Usually the fresher the memory the more influence it has.” He suggested. “It doesn’t need to be something too incredibly powerful either.”

 

‘ _Something recent?’_ All he could remember from the recent weeks had been a couple of tests, an unfortunate run-in with the inquisitorial squad... That- and the formation of the DA. _‘In theory- It might work, as embarrassing as it is.’_ He thought, closing his eyes and focusing, his hand going through the motions. **_“Patronus.”_ ** He murmured.

A burning sensation filled his body and he felt a force press against the wand, when his pale eyes cracked open- a small, but far more developed shield of light pulsated in front of him, and his surprise caused his focus to drop and the charm dissipated.

 

“Impressive! Now take that idea and focus in on the good aspects. Take hold of the happiness in those memories.”

 

In that moment, a thought crossed Draco’s mind. ‘ _Why is it that such a trivial memory like the DA could produce a patronus?’_ He looked down at the grated stone ground. ‘ _Why was it that this, amongst everything else in my life... made me happy?’_ He bit his lip, unnerved by the idea that had crossed his mind.

 

 ** _‘For once in your life you don’t feel tied down to your title.’_** A small voice in his head appeared, saying things that he himself would never admit aloud. **_‘Right now, you aren’t “Draco Malfoy; 8th generation Slytherin; Son of the Malfoy and Black family.” You’re just “Draco Malfoy; trying to learn a stupid patronus charm.”’_**

 

Not even trying to deny what his innermost thoughts prodded, he considered what his signature represented on the parchment which hung on the board in the room of requirement. What it meant when he signed onto the DA. It was like a twisted form of freedom, in it’s own way. Pulling him from a rather dull, and unfulfilling life with his old friends- introducing him to the idea of _whatever_ it was he was doing.

Maybe it made him happy because he actually chose to sign the paper himself, despite Harry pushing him towards it- he knew that the choice was still ultimately his to make. Harry would have accepted it if he had said no.

It made him happy because he wasn’t doing it for his father or his old friends, or image or otherwise. He wasn’t doing it to save face for his family, or his persona he created or for Slytherin. He was doing it because he chose to do it.

 

He prepared his wand again, mind racing, and his grey eyes wandered over to Harry- a genuine and sincere smile slowly forming as he called upon the charm again, the feeling of magic rushing through his body again.

His wand burst out with a clean, thin shield which puslated far brighter than he’d ever expected. He concentrated and it slowly grew in size, and he let an astonished, small laugh. He was at a loss for words, the feeling was like nothing he’d anticipated- _pure happiness._

 

Harry clasped his hands together, and Draco lowered his wand, letting the shield dissipate slowly. “That was really good! Only one comment and you’ve improved so much!” He exclaimed.

 

“Better than nothing.” He responded with a sheepish voice, still in awe of what he’d just experienced, but slightly disappointed that he couldn’t produce an animal patronus. “Thanks, Harry.” He then mumbled.

 

“My pleasure, Draco, and don’t worry about trying to form an animal patronus, by the way. It’ll come when it comes.”

 

“Right, right.” He drawled out. “I’m sure it’ll be in my most dire time when it happens, right?” They both laughed. “Anyways- I think I’m going to call it here, if you don’t mind. That took a lot out of me, and I don’t want to beat a dead horse and continue.” He sighed and stuck his wand into his pocket.

 

“Of course! We’ll catch up in a few, I can pitch you some ideas for next year’s plans!” Harry responded, walking him towards the door which formed as they approached, saying his goodbyes. Draco stuck his head out the door slowly, seeing no sign of Umbridge’s search party, and made his way down the corridor to the grand hall. _‘Next year…’_ He thought, an unconscious smile returning to his face. _‘We’ll all work even harder next year.’_

 

When he entered the Great Hall, he mindlessly sat down at the Gryffindor table, not too many people had arrived for dinner yet- so the population of students wasn’t too high. He nodded to a couple passing students as he examined silverware or stared off into the sea of candles which floated above him- mind wandering.

After a few moments of silence, Ron showed up- sitting across from him at the table with a tired expression across his face. “Patronus got the best of you, too?” Draco asked, still staring at the ceiling.

 

“Absolutely shot.” He responded with exasperation. “Takes a lot outta you, doesn’t it?” Draco nodded. He looked around as if the teachers were hovering over them, locked eyes with a Slytherin, and quickly turned around.

“Couldn’t agree more, I’ve never had this much trouble with any sort of magic before.” He lowered his voice. “I can barely produce an adequate shield- much less an animal!”

 

They chatted for a bit as the dinner was served, Hermione and Harry eventually joining them when the DA meeting wrapped up.

 

“There’s a storm coming during the night, I hear they’re running all the mail tonight during dinner to get it out of the way.” Hermione said in between small bites during their conversation. “Suppose a lot of parents sent mail early once they heard about it too.”

“Expecting anything?” Ron asked.

 

“No, I don’t think so at least. My parents tend to stay out of magical affairs, you know how it is.” She looked up to the windows which the owls usually entered from, and watched intently. Not too long after, the flock of birds began to swoop down into the hall and deliver large parcels of mail.

Ron received something from his mother, what looked like a long letter, and Harry received a note from someone named ‘Padfoot.’ Draco didn’t want to pry or anything, but the name Padfoot was awfully odd.

 

He continued to converse with the trio and eat dinner until a rather dignified interruption descended down onto the table. _“Minuit.”_ He addressed, scratching the owl’s neck. It gave a small hoot and fluttered its wings, a letter falling to the surface of the table. For a split second, he had no idea what it was- and then he remembered. His father was supposed to return a few weeks before Christmas. His father _did_ return a few weeks before Christmas. The three seemed to know it too, going silent as the envelope sat in anticipation.

 _“Merci, Bon Garcon.”_ He said softly, picking up the letter. _“Je lirai,_ _attendez un moment, s’il vous plaît_ _.”_ The owl nodded, turning to peck at the crumbs off of his plate.

 

“It knows french?!” Ron groaned, still picking up crumbs from the _failure to land_ that his own owl had experienced. “How is it that your bird understands full french sentences- and mine can’t even _land!_ ”

 

“Minuit is the family owl. Very rare, and very well trained. We got him from the french bureaucracy. I’m pretty sure he knows more french than I do.” He stared at the letter with any amount of discretion, and for some reason, felt his heart sink. _He’d been waiting for this letter. Why did it feel wrong?_

With a slow pace, he unfolded the letter to a page of black ink, stationary his father was partial to, and the overwhelmingly unexpecting feeling of dread, and he began to read.

  


**_[Draco,_ **

 

**_I have returned from business and I have just been brought up to speed on your status and rehousing. I cannot bare to imagine the painfully annoying situation you must be in, and I will not allow it to go on any longer. Expect to return to Slytherin before the year is over, and my apologies for not addressing this concern earlier in the year._ **

 

**_Lucius Malfoy]_ **

 

Even though he thought he’d be happy to read these words, for some reason the pit feeling in his stomach didn’t cease. ‘ _Your vacation away from reality will be over soon, Draco.’_ He realised. ‘ _After this you’ll be a Slytherin again. Green robes, dark dorms… Old friends.’_ His pale eyes stayed fixated on the letter and he felt himself frowning. The three tried to ask him what was wrong, but for a brief moment he could not process it. ‘ _Finally! It was only a matter of time before this stupid game would be over. You’re saved!’_ He tried to put the voice aside, the confliction making him more confused, and he took a deep breath. ‘ _No more ridiculous rules! No more curfews or prefects! No more silly little agreements or promises.’_

 

What was wrong with him? Why did he feel...

 

He presented the letter to the three without a word, his head still spinning from the shock of it- seeing as he had honestly forgotten about it- and found himself feeling rather bittersweet as he passed through the dorms. When he had first come into the commons with Mrs McGonagall, he’d been overwhelmed by the mess of it all- but it felt familiar now- it felt _good_. It felt warm and comforting to be surrounded by the vaulted walls and ceilings draped in curtains, wallpapers, and enough windows to start a garden. He liked the dozens of couches and sofas strewn about, the fireplace in the centre of it all with the golden cups and house portraits lining the surrounding area.

 

Whether he wanted to admit it or not- _he liked it here._ The thought of leaving… Didn’t feel so amazing as he thought it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter so much!!! I'm sure you guys can tell my editing and writing on this one isn't amazing... It's really just set-up for the next chapter where things really get wacky. Hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless.
> 
> This is where the divergence really begins to shine, and I hope I'm not watering down Draco's character too much... He's in a very conflicted state right now which makes him very dry. Hope we can see a little more development soon with him and the others.
> 
> also, hope you guys notice I'm taking your comments into account. Hope some of this stuff answered some questions ;')
> 
> Hint: The next chapter is called "Loyalty: A fine line between..."  
> Have fun thinking on that one for a little while ;')
> 
> EDIT: Fixed the french! Had a native speaker read and revise it so now it should be, for the most part, accurate to what I was going for :)


	6. Loyalty, the fine line between...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Malfoy must face what he'd been waiting for all year-- a way out. He could finally leave the fever dream of Gryffindor behind him and start setting things straight with the rest of the school.  
> Things, of course, are not that simple.
> 
> Despite his best efforts- who's to stop a stupid hat with some stupid ideas? No one, really. Draco already knew that.

Despite how much Draco Malfoy wished he could ignore the impending situation, he couldn’t quite let his mind wander from it. He knew the time would come when he’d be woken up from his nightmare-turned-fever-dream. He knew it wasn’t permanent from the start.

That didn’t stop him from feeling a short, brief anxiety every now and again.  _ Would Slytherin even want him back?  _ They’d been calling him a blood traitor for  _ months _ now.  _ Would his new friends and the DA still accept him? _ The group had clearly made a distinction between themselves and the Slytherins- even if Harry said they’d still stay in touch. 

His brooding over so many unanswered questions made it difficult to focus on anything else. He’d just bumped into Neville on his way out to the dorm to the commons, so lost in thought that he’d ran straight into him. He was just waiting for the day to come so everything could be sorted out.  _ ‘That’s right.’ _ He concluded.  _ ‘All this is is anxiety over unanswered questions.’ _

 

The week was full of snowy weather and the boorish lessons he couldn’t even focus on anyways, and he found himself dozing off on more than one occasion. What point did he have in paying attention to Astrology anyways? 

He ran into the inquisitorial squad a few times over the week, and despite his best efforts, they refused to speak to him. At the very opening of his mouth, they scoffed, insulting him and passing him by. Even the more docile of Slytherins’ continued to ignore him- It was hard to believe he’d be sharing the same house as them again.

 

He’d waited patiently, but precariously, for the end of the week. He waited to hear the announcement over Umbridge’s godforsaken speakers that made the school just a  _ little _ closer to hell. He waited to see his father for the first time since the beginning of summer since he left for the unnamed business that he never elaborated on. He waited.

Just after another borish transfigurations lesson at the end of the week, Draco found himself having a nice conversation with Abbott and Corner, two DA members he’d only recently re-acquainted himself with. They were nice enough, and it was better than wandering around in silence. As they made their way down the hall, the speakers which had hung over their heads croaked.

 

**“Draco Malfoy to the Headmaster’s office. I repeat; Draco Malfoy to the Headmaster’s office.”** He felt his body tense up at the annoyingly loud, painfully shrill voice. Umbridge was going to have a hand in this- and that did not make him feel any better. 

He gave a short goodbye to the two, breaking off from the group before turning into one of the emptier hallways. He walked along the courtyard, one hand in his pocket while the other traced the walls, trying to calm himself down as he made the journey up to the tower. After ascending a few sets of stairs and crossing the halls, he came face-to-face with the gargoyle statue which perched just outside the entrance to the office, and he felt a sense of Deja-Vu wash over him.

_ “Sherbert Strawberry.” _ He whispered, just to see if it worked, but sighed when the door stayed tightly sealed. He’d have to wait for McGonagall or Umbridge or whoever, just like last time. He perched himself up against a wall and crossed his arms.

 

_ “Psst!” _ A noise caught Draco’s drifting attention, and he swerved around, seeing Ron’s head peeking out from behind a pillar. “You can’t seriously go in there without getting a proper goodbye!”

He motioned for Draco to follow him back behind the pillar, a small smile on his face, and he cautiously made his way towards the voice. In the alcove just across from the Headmasters’ office stood just about everyone he knew from Gryffindor and the DA who didn’t detest him.

 

“I’m not dying you guys.” He said sarcastically, tilting his head to the side. “Not like I’m getting expelled or anything either.” His eyes scanned the group. Harry, Hermione, Ron… George and Fred, Luna and Hannah, Seamus and Neville, even his damned prefect who’d dealt with him all year and took his reports. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

 

“We just wanted to reaffirm and remind you that you’re a friend and ally, even after you’ve been rehoused,” Hermione said. “the only difference is that you’ll have a green tie on.” The others nodded. 

“That’s right. Of course we’ll miss hanging out with you in the commons and in the dorm, but we aren’t gonna ignore you or ditch you. Just means that there’ll be less late-night study sessions and stuff.” Ron crossed his arms.

 

Draco dipped his head down and let an incredulous sigh. “ _ Less _ late-night study sessions? Going to sneak me into the Gryffindor Tower are you?” He smirked.

“Well, I’ll neither confirm or deny that,” Harry interjected, winking. “sure would be irresponsible to do such a thing, and to talk about itin frontt of prefects no less?” Draco’s prefect rolled her eyes.

 

The group laughed and shared a few more minutes, all wishing Draco good luck in the headmasters’ office- seeing as he’d be forced to breathe the same air as  _ Umbridge _ . Their well-intended send off however was cut off by a quick clearing of a throat. McGonagall stood in the hall, waiting for them to wrap up.

 

“Draco Malfoy, the agreement has been made and the paperwork is signed.” She said, causing the group to break up and disperse quickly, all giving him a reassuring few words or nods before turning the corner.

 

“We’ll see you at dinner?” Harry asked.

“Of course.” Draco quickly responded, turning to McGonagall after the group had left. They returned to the door of the headmasters’ office, McGonagall muttered a new password he barely made out, and they ascended the stairs of the entrance. While the sense of Deja-Vu was there, he noticed she seemed a lot... nicer than before, in her silent expressions at least, than at the beginning of the year.

 

“-The simple notion of this is still absolutely ludicrous! A rehousing for a couple menial pins? A few mean remarks? What kind of fool do you take me for, Albus?!” As they continued up the staircase, Lucius’ voice echoed more clearly, bouncing off the walls. “My son is an 8th generation Slytherin. I’ll be damned if you incompetent fools attempt to strip him of it.” Draco could hear his father’s agitated pacing.

 

“If I’d known sooner that you put Malfoy’s son through such absurd punishment, I would have sorted it myself.” He cringed up at the sound of Umbridge’s voice, and he slowly slicked back, faltering for a moment. “To think you’d have the absolute  _ gall _ to punish an Unspeakable’s child!”

 

When they arrived at the tower the yelling ceased, and the heads of houses lined up on one side, his father and Umbridge on the other. Dumbledore sat behind his cluttered desk, seemingly calm despite being surrounded by chaos. Draco approached his father, bowing his head down slightly.

 

His father scoffed at the sight of the red tie he had wrapped around his neck, arms crossed with silver cane pressed against his coat. “Good lord they’ve done a number to you.” He commented coldly, examining Draco’s almost  _ messy _ appearance _ (compliments of being surrounded by Gryffindors for so long) “ _ Anyhow- You’ll be rehoused and your rehabilitation will be dropped.” He tapped his cane to the ground, and his cold eyes pierced into Draco’s skull. He felt uneasy and nodded slightly. He’d never felt this unnerved around him before- so why was it different now? There was something about him that just… didn’t feel right. An aura he’d never felt before.

 

“The stool.” McGonagall directed him, gingerly picking up the enchanted hat. He sat down, facing towards the grandiose library that sat just behind Dumbledore’s chair, and he let his eyes fall to the floor. As she approached him, she gave him a reassuring look that he’d never seen before, and she set the sorting hat on his head.

 

The hat started to mumble, so low that only Draco could hear it in the almost silent room.  **_“Draco Malfoy.”_ ** It grimaced.  **_“Just how many times will you be put in this situation?”_ ** The thing shifted above him, sighing.  **_“Three months have passed since our last encounter, if I hadn’t been informed of this rehousing, I would barely have recognised you.”_ **

 

Embarrassed, Draco stayed silent.

 

**_“So, which house would you prefer this time? You know I always take opinions.”_ ** It asked coyly, to which Draco rolled his eyes.  _ ‘I think you already know. Slytherin of course.’  _ He thought. He could see his father from the corner of his eye and his anxieties which had been crawling up continued to prick at him.

The hat seemed to let out a sort of laugh. **_“Are you sure, Malfoy? I can tell when you lie, you know.”_** _‘-I’m not lying!’_ He quickly interjected. _‘Slytherin is my family house, my first house. It’s my only true house.’_ He pressed on the idea, confused at the hat’s remarks.

 

**_“You’ve even begun to convince yourself. Pray tell- what will you find when you return to Slytherin? Why do you want to return?”_ ** He bit his lip out of nerves and growing frustration.  _ ‘I’ll be welcomed back, I’m sure. It’s my birthright as an 8th generation Malfoy to be in Slytherin.’  _ The hat’s odd replication of laughter continued. 

**_“Birthright and reason are parallels which never meet, just because your family wishes it so does not necessarily give you a reason to prefer one over the other, although it does seem that way.”_ ** Draco shook his head profusely, as if it would knock sense into the hat. _ ‘Slytherin was my first house. My friends are in Slytherin.’ _ He then thought.

 

**_“Your memories and thoughts are mere images to me, and you’d expect me to believe that?”_** The hat the said incredulously. **_“Friends who abandoned you at the mere sight of your rehousing- turned against you and viciously seek out what you have created?”_** He grasped at his sleeves. _‘That’s because they’re… They…’_ He paused. _‘Because they didn’t know anything, because I was stupid and tried to hide it. That’s why they lashed out.’_

 

**_“Nonetheless, you hid those same facts from your new roommates. They didn’t lash out? They asked you what happened and chose to understand.”_** _‘Because that’s how they think- that’s just the first thing they go with… That doesn’t make them better than my old friends.’_ Draco’s grip got tighter. **_“And yet with every opportunity you have with your old friends…  They still refuse to listen. No matter the number of times you offered to explain?”_**

 

_ ‘I’m sick of hearing you talk poorly about affairs you have no business or matter in.’  _ Draco finally responded.  _ ‘Despite their choices, they’re still my friends. Just rehouse me so we can put this matter to rest.’ _

 

After an long, frustrating pause the hat spoke again.  **_“Loyalty.”_ ** It muttered. 

 

_ ‘What?’  _ He retorted.

 

**_“No matter what they’d do to you, or what they’d say… You defend them as if they were saints.”_ ** The low voice mused.  **_“Quite a trait to have, for better or worse.”_ **

 

_ ‘And? This rehousing has taken up enough time as it is. Save the compliments for next year’s first years.’ _

**_“Do you want to know why I put you in Gryffindor, despite it being quite possibly the worst decision I could have possibly made in your eyes?”_ ** The hat’s sudden notion took him aback, but piqued his interest, he remained silent. 

**_“No matter what, you wanted to stay in Slytherin. You made it quite clear that your fealty was with Salazar’s house and no other.”_ ** The hat stopped, reflecting for a moment.  **_“That level of loyalty is one I have only found in the fiercest Gryffindors this school has ever taught- and was the only trait I could pick up on that morning, given you had closed yourself off so indignantly.”_ ** It seemed to talk as if were musing, impressed.

 

Draco looked down and fixated on the dark planking on the floor boards, pale eyes searching as if it would make the situation go by faster. He had a feeling he knew where the hat was going with the argument, and he didn’t want to hear it.

 

**_“Ironically, your faith and loyalty was the fine line which pushed you towards a different house. That’s what drove me to place you in Gryffindor, despite your dispositions for the ordeal.”_ **

 

Draco let out an incredulously long sigh- he wanted it all to be over. _ ‘Alright, yes. You’ve made it very clear why you shoved me in Gryffindor. Now shove me back into Slytherin and call it a year.’ _ He quipped, noticing that the group of spectators who watched from the other side of the room grew agitated with every minute of silence that prevailed.  _ ‘This has nothing to do with the current rehousing either way.’ _

 

The hat disagreed, forming a frown in it’s animate fabric and textiles. **_“It has everything to do with this rehousing._** **_Like I said, you have a sense of loyalty which would rival even the most ideal Gryffindors’, which makes it all the more surprising when I read into your soul now.”_**

 

Draco felt a short-lived twinge of anxiety.  _ ‘And what would push you to say that?’ _

 

**_“Your previously perfect, impenetrable faith has been altered.”_ ** It announced.  **_“In just a few months, you cannot deny it. Your mind has been changed.”_ ** As much as he chose to not believe the hat- he couldn’t stop himself from thinking.

 

He instantly thought about the freedom he had in the DA and his patronus, the friends he made in Gryffindor… The studying with Hermione and dinners with Ron and his siblings… The late nights of absolute  _ bullshit _ that they’d pull for no reason other than to enjoy company in the dorms. The transformation of opinion in Harry Potter and all of his friends… In his opinion of Gryffindor entirely. The cool afternoons in the common room which he’d begun to enjoy inhabiting- the drapery which swayed with the wind. The views and the dorms and the  _ beds. _

 

_ ‘I already know what you want me to say, but…’  _ He peered for a split second at his father, piercing eyes glancing back.  _ ‘I need to be in Slytherin, for the sake of my family.’ _

 

**_“You’re ready to give that all up? Unconvincing that you’d be so willing to let it go so quickly.”_ ** The hat stated flatly.  **_“My purpose is to house students in the place where they’ll be most fit-”_ **

_ ‘My loyalties in school may have changed, but my adherence to my father has remained unaffected…’ _ He interrupted. _ ‘It matters to him that I am returned to Slytherin. Even if I want to stay-’  _ He gripped the edge of the stool and felt the embarrassment rise to his face.  _ ‘Even if… Even If  _ **_I_ ** _ want to stay in Gryffindor, that has little sway with my father.’ _

 

The hat grumbled. **_“I would dare to say you’re more of a Gryffindor than Slytherin- You’ve revealed that side of you after years of blind faith. Do you really think going back would be the most beneficial?”_ ** Draco stayed silent, his face was beet red from pure embarrassment. He couldn’t come up with any sort of response.

**_“If you remain soundless, I’ll decide right now.”_ ** The hat augered.

 

He didn’t respond.  _ He couldn’t respond. _ No matter how hard he tried to come up with anything- he just couldn’t.

 

**“I’ve made my decision.”** The hat announced suddenly, and he could feel his heart sink. Had he just ruined everything?  **“I believe that my decision is for the best for Draco Malfoy, despite any personal beliefs he may have expressed.”** As it spoke, the hat seemed to direct the decision solely onto itself, and he turned to face the group who’d been waiting impatiently.

 

**“Draco Malfoy will remain in Gryffindor for the remainder of his years here at Hogwarts.”**

 

_ Painful silence _ .

 

After the longest moment of deadly silence Draco had ever experienced in his 16 years of life, the hat was taken off his head and placed back on the shelf, and the House Heads were dismissed. Umbridge and his father remained, and he slowly got off the stool. He couldn’t possibly come up with an excuse, could he?

 

His father approached, his slick black shoes making the floor creak and bend. He stopped only a few feet from him. “Draco.” He addressed, his voice unafflicted for a brief moment. “Look at me when I speak to you.” Draco couldn’t possibly move, and his father simply gripped his cane a little tighter _._ _“Draco Lucius Malfoy. You will look at me when I speak to you.”_ He hissed, commanding his head to raise.

 

Cold- harrowed- and painfully unimpressed. He didn’t think his heart could sink any lower than it had- but it did. He bit the inside of his mouth to keep himself from showing any sign of weakness.

 

“Quite frankly, I am  _ disgusted _ .” He sneered, voice containing some amount of composure in front of Headmaster Dumbledore. “You- What would possess you to--” He kept starting sentences before trailing off, a hand coming up to his temples. “I do not permit you to return to the mansion for the holiday break. I cannot bear to house you right now- and your mother will take this very hard.” He turned, facing away. “We will discuss just what exactly happened here when the school year is over. Just…”He trailed off again. “Focus on your classes. Do not fail us in more than one way you...” He wavered, stopping himself.

 

Before Draco could say anything, the tall man walked out of the office in pure frustration, half-slamming the door on his way out, leaving him staggered in the middle of the tower.

His emotions all seemed to jumble up and fester, and it was so much for him- he couldn’t quite think or process. 

“Quite a twist, Malfoy.” Dumbledore interrupted his crisis with a soft voice. “To think that you’d convince the hat you were in Gryffindor.” He scratched Fox’s chin, staring at the oddities in his room. “A fine house, off course. You should be proud. I was always quite partial to the red and gold myself.”

 

Draco looked down again for the millionth time. “I’m not too sure of it myself. I just…” He began to murmur. He wasn’t what to say to him.

 

“You won’t allow this to break your impressive academic record will you?” The professor then asked. “That wouldn’t be very good, and you’re off probation now which means you truly have no  _ real  _ obligation to your studies.” 

 

“O-Of course not, Headmaster. I can’t imagine why this would affect my studies..” He panicked, thinking about what his father said again.  _ He’d failed them. _

 

“I am of course, kidding.” The headmaster laughed. “You will be fine, I’m sure of it, Malfoy. It’s only school- after all.”

 

His head dipped down even more. “Right.” He said quietly, trying to follow suit and laugh it off. “I suppose I should be off then, if everything is done.” He dipped his head to Dumbledore and the phoenix- turning to approach the stairwell. Umbridge, who looked vacant, had a cold expression when they met eyes- however, the inquisitor stayed silent- her judgement clear as day.

 

He slowly went down the stairs, a drag in his step, and when he reached the hall- a certain Gryffindor had to be waiting for him. Harry sat on the ledge of the window, watching the grounds intently. Draco bit his lip.

 

He glanced towards the door- noticing the blonde standing there with an almost blank expression. “Still sporting the red for today?” He joked, hopping off the ledge, pulling the tie out from under Draco’s vest. “I think the green one’ll look just as good on you.” 

Draco shook his head slowly, staring at the tie. “Seems it’s a permanent fixture.” He stuffed the maroon and gold fabric back into his vest. “Let’s just say my father wasn’t exactly  _ thrilled _ when all was said and done.” 

 

For a moment, Harry looked back up to him, concern and confusion in his eyes. It took him a second to fully process the idea. “You’ve permanently been moved to Gryffindor?” He asked, to which Draco nodded. He still couldn’t sort his emotions properly. “I mean- wow.  _ Wow. _ That’s… unexpected.” A sheepish laugh followed him.

 

“You don’t have to put salt in the wound, you know.” He said with a short chuckle accompanying, putting his back against the wall. “I’m sure you saw him when he stormed out of the office. The look in his eyes, Harry. I’d never felt more ashamed in my life.” Harry placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “A disgrace, a-a blood traitor.”

 

“With the way he slammed the door? I could hear it from here. I just thought Dumbledore or Umbridge had done something to.. Y’know.. Tip him off.” He murmured. “Are you… going to be okay?” 

 

Draco let himself drop down into a huddled curl against the stone wall, and Harry followed- concern growing. “Is he right? Am I a blood traitor? The hat- that damn hat..” He trailed off a little, voice going dim. “What am I going to do? Everything had been resting on the fact that this  _ wasn’t _ permanent.” He kept trying to explain himself- but the only thing that came out was more frustration. “None of this was supposed to be real-- I was supposed to leave and it was all supposed to go back to normal.”

 

Harry didn’t respond. The pained, embarrassed expression on Draco’s face said it all. He gingerly put an arm around Draco and pat his back. “It’s going to be okay.” He said. “It’s only school, after all. It’ll all be okay.” 

 

“That’s what Dumbledore said to… but-- even if it is  _ just _ school…That doesn’t seem to matter to my family.” 

 

“Well, What are you going to do now?” Harry asked. “I mean, well… What do you want to do?” He smiled, standing up, extending a hand to the defeated now-permanent Gryffindor.

 

If it were like before, he’d quip back with something along the lines of  _ ‘Does it concern you?’ _ but it wasn’t like before- none of it was. He couldn’t even use the excuse of the  _ promise _ of it one day going back.  “I think I just need to get some air.” He concluded, taking Harry’s hand to stand back up. 

 

“Do you need some time alone?” He then asked. “Because I’ve nothing to necessarily do until Dinner, if you’re alright with me sticking around.”

Draco cracked a small smile. “What about detention? I know for a fact she would  _ never _ let you just  _ have a free period _ , god forbid.”  Harry shook his head.

“It’s been weeks of non-stop detention. Missing out on one isn’t going to kill me, you know.” They began to walk down the corridor, turning to the stairwell which would feed into the main halls. 

“The detentions might not kill you, but I can’t bear to imagine her shrill voice when she  _ does _ eventually get to you.” He chuckled. “That might be fatal, after all.”

 

The two navigated around the long-winded corridors and down the tower, most of the students were either in classes or in the commons, so the halls seemed almost empty. 

The sunny afternoon was spent wandering aimlessly around the grounds- talking about whatever- and all Draco wanted to do was forget about what had happened- and the look in his father’s eyes. Harry seemed to have a knack for making him forget about things- if only for a little while- and by the time dinner was served and they sat down with the others- he’d almost completely forgotten about the entire exchange. 

He almost completely forgot about the hat or his father or the fact that it wasn’t just a fever dream anymore.

 

_ Almost. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took FOR-FREAKING-EVER!!!   
> My laptop (main place for writing this) broke and we haven't fixed it yet-- so I've been slowly chipping away on my school computer and desktop- which are not my most ideal writing workspaces, admittedly. 
> 
> Anyways-- it's really done now and I intend on trying to work on it more even though my laptop is still broke as hell, so it definitely shouldn't take too long for the next one :)  
> The final scene of this chapter with Harry is actually a reference to their scene in Chapter 3 when Harry discovers Draco's big secret-- a little sprinkle for y'all out there who love that type of thing ig
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading and for all the support! <3


	7. Waking Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holidays are closing in and anxieties begin to grow. The cry for help sets off a chain which leads to Draco finally concluding the truth about the Dark Lord— and also finding a place to stay for the Holidays.

The dining hall was filled with the usual exuberant chatter. Every student clamouring to gossip or whatever it was they chose to speak of. The draft of the cold winter was hardly a reminder-- the holiday break was going to arrive soon.

 

The teachers of the school sat stately at the head of the room, indignant in their movements, quiet in their own conversation.

 

“I’d be lying if I said I  _ wasn’t _ surprised, Pomona. The results of the rehousing from earlier this week were hardly  _ expected. _ ..” McGonagall let out a deep breath, hand placed on her temples. “I mean,  _ Malfoy? _ Nothing meant by the boy but to think he’d end up being  _ permanently  _ placed in Gryffindor?” 

 

Pomona Sprout, who sat next to McGonagall, nodded along. “I suppose. It was quite a surprise, and for his father to have been there too. Poor boy.”

 

The professor set down her fork with a drawn-out sigh. “What’s done is done I suppose, though sometimes I wonder if it was the right choice to rehouse him in the first place. After all...” She stopped, Pomona nodded, and she finished her statement with an exhale. She didn’t  _ need _ to finish 

 

On the other side of the hall at the end of the Gryffindor table, Draco sat with about as much energy as a flobberworm, head buried into his cloak. Harry sat across from him with a bored expression, and Ron was stuffing his face right next to him.

 

“Blimey Draco I know it’s rough, but it is just school,” Ron said between bites. “your family won’t be but  _ so _ mad.”

“Doesn’t make it any less  _ upsetting _ .” He retorted from under the cloak. “I mean, how’d  _ your _ family feel if you’d been housed outside of Gryffindor?”

Ron stopped for a moment, thinking. “I dunno, prolly ask me what it’s like? The other common rooms and stuff I mean.” He shrugged. “Give me an earful for havin’ to buy new uniforms though.”

 

Draco’s exasperated sigh made him even more tired- of course, it wouldn’t be a problem if his family didn’t actually  _ care _ so much about it. The Weasleys didn’t even bat an eye at the notion. It wasn’t that simple though. That’s not how it worked for  _ his _ family though.

 

“It’s okay, Draco. It’ll be just fine.” Hermione insisted. “I know your family has a lot more… traditional values than ours have... But they can’t kick you out forever.” 

 

He finally sat up, staring at the food which was being presented on silver platters. He let a long, decadent sigh. “Enough about that- you three were out at Hagrid’s again weren’t you?” He asked after a moment, trying to change the subject. “Isn’t his ‘Umbridge evaluation’ coming up soon?” 

 

“We did, ‘Nd yeah, can’t imagine that prude out in the forest though- up near all the animals and like.” Ron sighed, looking around. Umbridge leered along the crowd as they spoke and he cleared his voice. “He had to get out and take a break, y’know? Asked for our opinions on how to improve his classes though so Umbridge doesn’t fire ‘im.” The whole group seemed to roll their eyes. 

 

“I’d be surprised if his examination goes well, given he’s not exactly  _ suited _ to Umbridge’s personal appeal. Barely let the  _ other _ teachers go who weren’t, y’know, pure-bloods.” He picked at his food. “But he isn’t a bad teacher-- maybe it’ll go just fine.”

 

Harry glanced back up to where the teachers sat, and he sighed. “I hope so.”

 

When dinner concluded, the four found themselves shuffling up the winding stairs with the rest of the Gryffindor students, talking about mundane things to fill time as they all slowly filled into the commons. Most kids retired early, wanting the days to pass faster so they could go home to break, and Draco found himself sticking to the three,  _ yet again. _

 

They sat in a circle by the fire, pillows moved around to make their meeting more comfortable, and just kept talking. Draco didn’t mind the idle chatter, even if he was more concerned with the DA or his own situation, but it seemed to help him get his mind in a better place.

The three all seemed pretty enthusiastic to get to the holidays, who wouldn’t be? Given the situation with the High Inquisitor, most students were more than ecstatic about the upcoming break. He wasn’t sure  _ what _ he was going to do, he just knew it was going to be a rather long break. 

 

When they finally decided to retire, Draco allowed himself to be surrounded by the warm, comforting red sheets and plush bedding- drifting off with his anxieties beginning to fade. A cool breeze came from the cracked-open window and the heat from the furnace combated against it. Perhaps they were right- and his parents  _ would _ eventually come around. It’s not like it could get changed now.

The only thing he could remember after drifting asleep was Harry shooting out of bed, half screaming with sweat running down his face. He looked around frantically, his loud breathing woke Draco up almost instantly. His face was strewn and confused as if he was still locked in a dream. 

The blond rolled out of the bed quickly and shook Ron awake, and the two tried to snap Harry from his feverish state. All they got in response was low mutters, incoherent, and frazzled.

 

“Keep him here, make sure he doesn’t do anything. I’m getting McGonagall.” Ron said quickly as if it was a normal occurrence, without even a hint of explanation and slipped out of the dorm. Neville and Seamus were still asleep at the other side of the room, only half dazed and unafflicted as the drapes blocked out most of the hushed whispers and dream-exclamations. Draco tried to shush Harry.

 

“In the place… With the door. There’s a snake. Me, Draco. The snake.” He muttered in between quick breaths. “He’s going to die.” He grasped Draco’s shirt and looked at him, his eyes bloodshot and almost glossed over “Arthur Weasley is going to die. He was bitten- by a snake.” His voice got quieter and more fast-paced, mumbling off into incoherent 

Draco closed his eyes and pulled Harry close so that he wouldn’t freak out, and spoke in a low voice. “It was just a dream. It hasn’t happened.” He said, his own voice just a little shaky. “Mr Weasley is fine.” He wasn’t sure what to do.

 

“Right now, yes. But it will happen. That snake will kill him if no one does anything.” Harry looked down, he still spoke fast. “He’s looking for something that he didn’t have before. He’s searching, and no one is going to stand in his way.” His frightened, trance-like state scared Draco. What was happening? 

“Who, Harry? What do you mean ‘not yet?’” He tried to stay calm, his voice was still steady as Harry’s sweat gathered even more. He crumpled up at the mere thought of answering the question. He was so very tired. Draco tried patting his back- trying to keep him steady.

 

“The- The dark lord is going to-” Before Harry could say anything else, McGonagall and Ron quickly interrupted. “The- the…” He trailed off, losing his train of thought.

 

“Dear-” The professor's voice quavered. “It’s getting worse.” She looked to Draco and extended her arm. “We need to get to Dumbledore’s office right now. If what Ronald was saying is remotely true- Malfoy please help- I don’t think he’s in the state to assist.”

 

Suddenly he found himself towing Harry along the west wing, across the bridge, past the astronomy classroom, and up the winding stairs. He wasn’t sure of what was happening- all he knew is that it was getting more urgent. 

Harry’s eyes became duller with each step they took, he was tired. He tripped over himself and kept murmuring, trailing off. Draco couldn’t help but wonder what he had seen in his dream.  _ The dark lord? In the flesh? _ He’d never really entertained the idea beyond what happened at the Triwizard Tournament being true- much less  _ seeing _ him in the flesh. The idea alone was frightening enough.

 

As they climbed the staircase and slowly filed into the office which Draco had been to far too many times this year, Dumbledore gave a half-witted nod to McGonagall before noticing the tow of children which followed suit. His face quickly turned into a frown of sorts- even more so when Draco dragged Harry into the office.

 

The professor got up from his chair, circling around from behind his desk. “What happened this time?” He quickly asked.  _ So it has happened before. _ He thought, still keeping Harry upright. “Describe the dream.”

“Mr Weasley was by the door. The one he’s been trying to get into in the department.” He said after a moment of silence.

“From your past dreams? You’re sure?” The Headmaster demanded. “You can say with absolute certainty?”

“Yes. I’m absolutely sure, professor.” He quickly replied. As he did, he pushed off on Draco a little, standing on his own. “Then the snake killed him. Struck him down with its fangs.” He looked away. “Professor I-” 

As Harry struggled to find words, the blond slowly sunk to the periphery of the room, standing next to Ron and his siblings who had been gathered in the midst of the questioning. Dumbledore paced as he did, and Harry fell silent. 

The Headmaster turned to the paintings on the walls who moved at the sound of his voice. “Inform  _ them _ that Mr Weasley has been gravely injured at the Department of Mysteries, and he will die if not assisted tonight. Make sure he is found by the  _ right people _ .” His head turned to Harry. “Were you watching from above or to the side?” As he asked, he paced to the other side of the room and muttered again to the other paintings. Draco couldn’t tell what they were saying.

Harry looked impatient. He grit his teeth and tried to speak up. “I wasn’t watching from either, Professor. It was more like-” Dumbledore cut him off as a third painting came to report to him. Almost so engrossed into the conversation, Harry tried to pull his attention. “Sir- I” Dumbledore didn’t even bat an eye. 

 

Draco looked over to Ron and the other Weasleys who watched with growing concern in their eyes. He didn’t know what was going on, much less what was going to happen. Ron’s father could die, apparently- and he didn’t know why or how. He didn’t know anything at all.

 

“LOOK AT ME!” Harry suddenly yelled, the entire room fell dead silent, Draco’s heart dropping a little at the insincerity and fear in his voice. Demanding, angry, almost hateful. He breathed, his eyes wide with resentment. “Professor.  _ I _ was the snake.” He grit. 

 

McGonagall turned away and closed her eyes to take a deep breath. In the silence of shock, she moved over to the group. “Please come with me, Ronald, Ginny, Fred, George.” She gathered them up. “I’ll see that you are returned home early for the holidays.” Silent and unnerved, full apprehension, they followed.

“P-Professor!” Draco whispered before she could leave, she stopped at the door of the staircase, the others already halfway down the flight. “What am I to do?” He then asked. “What’s going on?” 

 

“Stay until the headmaster dismisses you.” She directed, pointing to the scene which was playing out in front of them. “I’m afraid explaining this situation to you is more complicated than you’d like it do be.” She had a certain sadness in her voice, and she turned on her heel towards the stairs. “It will become clearer soon, I promise.” She concluded, shutting the door behind her as she went to attend with the Weasleys.

 

He turned back to the headmaster and Harry, their conversation having gone quiet since the sudden outburst, and Draco found himself awkwardly watching, not sure of what to say or do outside  _ ‘wait for the headmaster to dismiss you.’ _

He however, didn’t have to worry about it for too long, since only moments after McGonagall left- another figure stormed into the room. Professor Snape. He leered over to Draco, before approaching Dumbledore and Harry.

 

“You’ve summoned me, Headmaster?” His voice was tired, in an almost low growl. “I will assume it’s important, given the time of this visit. Can it not wait until morning?”

 

Dumbledore shook his head, pacing slightly. “His visions are getting stronger, Severus. I fear his connection to the Dark Lord grows every moment we stand here.” Snape looked unmoved by the notion, as if it were common knowledge, and Draco became even more confused. 

_ ‘Connection to the Dark Lord?’ _ With every second a dozen new questions seemed to arise.  _ ‘Just what has been going on… How much do I not know?’ _ He bit his lip, trying to make sense of any of the information being given to him.

 

Professor Snape grabbed Harry by the arm. “I see.” He said, gripping down on him. “I will see to it at once, Headmaster.” He started for the door, practically dragging Harry with him. When he passed by Draco- he attempted to offer a reassuring smile, and for a split second- the brunet’s expression softened, and then he was gone.

 

Snap and Harry left quite abruptly, leaving the blond alone in the office with the headmaster, clearly confused, tired and concerned beyond measure. The old professor simply sighed, sitting back down. “Draco Malfoy.” He addressed calmly. “Just how many times will I be seeing you in my office this year?” He chuckled slightly, trying to make light after the utter confusion that led up to this moment. 

 

Draco attempted to laugh, awkwardly at that, but he had an apparent concern strew across his face. “Headmaster… might I ask... What have I just witnessed tonight?” He clasped his hands together, looking down at the floor. “Is Harry… Is he alright..?”

 

Dumbledore looked up from his thin glasses, his hand raised to his beard. “Harry Potter has a very special set of circumstances- I’m sure you’ve come to realise.” He sighed. “The nightmares he has, like the one you witnessed tonight, are all cognitions created by the Dark Lord.”He began to explain, a sort of guilt forming in his expression. “They are meant to scare him, frighten him, warn him of the Dark Lord’s next moves and plans. All in an attempt to break his mind, and make him cave.” 

 

“That would mean the Dark Lord really has returned.” Draco murmured. It seemed a rather silly conclusion to make- but he’d always written it off as one thing or another- even when he  _ did _ become friends with Harry. “How long has this been happening? The nightmares.”

 

The headmaster shook his head. “Months, maybe. He’d reported having hallucinations since the beginning of the year. We feared the days would come when lives would be at stake- but we didn’t expect it to come this soon, quite honestly.” The headmaster looked down, staring at a stack of papers he had on his desk. “My apologies for bringing you into this- Malfoy. It’s hardly business that you’d want to be in- I’m sure.” 

 

_ ‘Months.’  _ Draco repeated in his head.  _ ‘Months of it. And yet?’ _ He shuddered at the thought of it. The thought of the Dark Lord- inside his mind, trying to break him. “Rather the opposite, actually” He replied. “Is there anything I can do to help him? Or, this whole affair, I suppose.”

 

“Be his friend.” The headmaster said softly. “Give him support and remind him that there will always be hope around him. Make sure he holds onto that” Draco nodded, and the Headmaster paused, as if thinking. “If you wish to help the  _ affair _ on the other hand, there are other things you can do. However, this is beyond what I could ask from a student.”

 

Draco tilted his head. “I don’t know if I quite understand Headm-.”

 

The professor raised his hand, cutting off his sentence. “Allow me to deliberate on my own and come to a decision myself. These are troubling matters after all.” He lowered his hand. “All the while, allow me to ask, how have your classes been, since making the permanent switch to Gryffindor?”

 

Draco was a little off-put by the sudden change in topic, but shrugged. “I suppose, fine.” He concluded. “I continue to make high marks, despite being removed from rehabilitation.”

“So I’ve noticed. Has your father since contacted you after the rehousing?” He leaned forward from behind his desk just a little. 

Draco shook his head. “I’m afraid not sir, I believe it might take more than a few days for him to reach out to me.” He looked away, a little upset at the fact. “I’m still not sure what I’m to do for Holidays, since he’s forbidden me to return home for them.” Dumbledore nodded, an odd glare in his eyes, as if thinking. “I-I suppose I should return to my dorm now, Headmaster.” He added.

 

“Yes. Stay safe, Malfoy.” The Headmaster replied. “-and wait for my deliberation on the matter, yes?” Draco nodded, bowing his head a little before leaving a little unceremoniously.  _ ‘What have I been blind to this whole time?’ _ He wondered, tracing his steps in the dark castle, all the way back to the dorms.  _ ‘What have I not seen?’ _ It ate him, knowing it had been going on for so long, and yet only now he’d begun hearing about it.

 

When he finally returned to the dorm, Ron was packing his things for the holidays. He had a tired movement to him, a worried scowl across his face. Draco picked up one of the many stacks of clothes strewn about, handing it to Ron. 

“Thanks.” He mumbled, giving a weak smile and shoved everything else in quickly. He sat the trunk down at the edge of his bed, sighing. “Draco?” he murmured, his voice sounding rather drained. He looked over at the blond, his expression softening into a rather sad look.

 

“Yes, Ron?” He was quiet in his response, the other roommates still sleeping.

 

He looked down at the floor of the dorm. “I’m sorry you had to see all that. Reckon it wasn’t a great wake-up call, yeah?” He gave a weak chuckle. “Rather scary now, innit?”

 

He nodded. “It is. Frightening really.” He tried offering a small smile. They both laughed just a little. “What am I going to tell Hermione tomorrow?” He said in amusement, it was a sadder sort of amusement, almost in pity. “I suppose she knows, of course, but imagine how that’ll go.”

 

For just a brief moment, they laughed at the simplest notions, trying to shed a little light on the situation, their exhaustion and fear and confusion causing them to go into a sort of hysteric for a little- but it was a refreshing change of pace from the rather dull and painful night they’d just endured.

 

When the mood finally wore off, and the tiredness set in, Ron yawned. “You know, it would be grand if you came and spent the holiday with us.” He blurted out. “Seeing as you’ve got nowhere else, really.” 

 

Draco was surprised by the sudden notion the redhead proposed, one he hadn’t really even thought to entertain.  _ ‘Holiday with the Weasleys? How would that go?’  _ He thought. “I’d never considered that an option, if I’m honest.” He admitted. “You’d think you three would have been fed up enough with me at school.” He added dramatically.

 

“Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll take it back.” He nudged. “I don’t see why not, though. ‘S’not like you’ve got anything else planned, right?” He smiled a small, tired smile.

Draco looked away. “Well, no. But I don’t wish to intrude so late in the season.” He murmured.

He shook his head. “Pish, I’ll send you an owl once everything’s been squared, yeah?” He lightly punched Draco’s arm, smiling again. “My mum’s always looking to impress more people at dinner anyhow.

 

They exchanged a few more words, which slowly devolved into mumbling of sorts, given their state and how late it was, and Ron finally said goodbye, leaving the dorm to- hopefully- see his father.

 

That night, Draco couldn’t help but worry, keeping him up. Despite the jokes, reassurance, or anything in between, he couldn’t help but worry over what had happened with Harry, and the  _ Dark Lord _ . He couldn’t help but feel that stress return, but under different pretenses, and it was a rather fitful night. Harry never returned to the dorm either which only added to his fears.

 

**_What was going to happen now?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT and super short chapter. I usually aim for ~4000 words or 10 pages per chapter but the original version of this chapter only had roughly... 2 pages and like 1000 words? It was really difficult stretching this out and cleaning it and getting it to a minimum standard that’s i set for myself. 
> 
> Once again I’m sorry for the wait— the next chapter has more meat on it so it should be far easier to edit and clean than this one was. Hope you guys are still sticking around and staying updated!
> 
> P.S. computer still broken, updates will still be relatively slow, sorry :(


	8. Holidays Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of Draco's awfully odd Holiday with the Weasleys,  
> In which his wardrobe is made fun of, he gets on a train, walks around in muggle suburbs, and finally figures out who the Padfoot guy is.
> 
> Inner turmoil begins as a question of Loyalties is finally made- in a bigger picture than he imagined.

With the absence of Ron and the other Weasleys on account that their father was attacked, Hermione who was committing to last minute extra credit assignments, and Harry who was Merlin-knows-where, the last week was a rather boorish one. He’d hung out with a couple of the other members of the DA to pass time, but every hour seemed to drag more.

Dinners were quieter than he had become used to, free periods were spent roaming around the library or grounds, nights were rather awkward seeing as Harry was almost always missing and his other roommates were too concerned with the holiday to notice- and when he  _ was _ present, he was far too tired to engage in anything other than sleep.

 

In the brief moments when Harry was in a state to talk, he’d tried his best to be a good stand-in for the other’s absence, reminding himself of what Dumbledore had said, but it was difficult when the only things on his mind were what happened that night. He didn’t want to bring it up, but between his own family, the Weasleys, the  _ Dark Lord _ , and every other thing that had happened- there weren’t many good topics to talk on.

 

Halfway through the week, only a few days before the break started, the three were having a rather pleasant breakfast in the grand hall. Harry looked less tired than usual, having returned to the commons relatively early from the past days. He sat across from Draco and was serving himself while talking- in great detail- about the new broom he’d seen being released over the break. Hermione had finally wrapped up her extra credit, sitting next to Harry with eyes trained on a book Draco had never seen before.  ‘ _ Probably some advanced book.’  _  He concluded.

While they chatted away without much thought, the owls came swooping down from the hatch as they did every now and again- a rather  _ stupid _ one slamming into the table, right in front of the three. A burst of small short-lived laughter came from the other tables as they helped the bird up, cleaning up the spilt food and making sure the owl wasn’t any more broken than it had been before. The letter was addressed to Draco, and the two looked rather surprised by that.

“What is it?” Harry asked after taking a sip of water. He seemed mildly interested, noting that Ron was writing to Draco and not him. Draco ran his finger against the folded envelope, but before he could- another owl appeared, landing with great dignity. It dropped a much more lavish stationary into his hands and left without so much as a hoot.

 

He looked up at the two, who shrugged with a similar amount of confusion, then he looked back down to the letters in his hands. Rather questioned by the situation, he opened the unmarked letter first.

 

It was mostly gibberish, undecipherable nonsense, but at the end of the block of text there was a short sentence. _‘Present to Padfoot and no one else.’_ He looked back up at the two, who were expecting some sort of explanation, and then he looked back down at the letter, a double-take as he tried to read it again.

 

“What’s it say?” They both asked, leaning forward a little.

 

Draco panicked for a minute, unsure of what to do with the strange letter. “I don’t know. It’s in a weird font. I can’t read it.” He remembered he’d heard Padfoot somewhere before, but he wasn’t sure of what to make of it.

 

“A concealment charm maybe? Or an illusion of some sort-” Hermione pulled out her wand and Draco retracted a little. They both frowned a little, still confused. “Or not, maybe you just can’t read.” She teased, trying to keep the mood light. 

 

The blond laughed. “Maybe so.” He quipped back, making a face while opening the next letter. It was crudely packaged in stationary which had seen better days, Ron’s rather patchwork handwriting scrawled across the pages.

 

_ Draco, _

 

_ I talked to my mum and all them and she said she’d love to have you over for Christmas. I know I already told you before I left but like I reckon this would be a proper invitation. So if you want to come with us instead of keeping your sorry bum locked in Gryffindor tower for a whole holiday- we’ll be expecting you. _

 

_ Bring an apatite ‘cos my mum will cook way to much, _

_ -Ron W. _

 

He was still a little confused, but when he disregarded the rather  _ unsettling _ previous letter, he was rather content. A small smile pressing against the corner of his mouth. “Looks like I’ll be going somewhere for holiday after all.” He said, passing the note towards the two.

“First it was in the halls and class, then you got rehoused and I see you in the dorms all the time.  _ Now you’re coming home with us? _ ” Harry groaned dramatically. “Oh however will I survive in these awful conditions.” 

They laughed at Harry’s overzealous tone. “Come now, Potter.” Draco played along, kicking him lightly from under the table. “Like it was my choice to make, being dragged along with you.” His own voice was reflecting his satire response, and he mimicked Harry with a sigh that caused them all to laugh again.

“This just means I’ll have to watch the  _ three _ of you and make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” Hermione closed her book. “It was bad enough with just Harry and Ron, but now I see you’re just as much of a fool as they can be.” 

The three continued their fake-bickering, laughing all the while as the holidays became a large topic of conversation. Draco could almost forget about the strange letter that he’d received, and padfoot, and all the other things worrying him in that moment. 

 

He spent the remainder of the week slowly packing, detering thoughts about his family or Umbridge  _ (or the Dark Lord, as it was now clear that he was a completely real thing.) _ and instead chose to think about how glad he wasn’t going to be holed up in the castle with a certain  _ High Inquisitor _ for a whole week. That idea alone was enough to keep his mood up.

 

The Friday morning that would soon lead to the Holiday was a slow one for Draco, waking up in a sort of boorish manner. It hadn’t quite hit him that his concerns over break were solved and that he’d be going to the  _ Weasleys _ for holiday. He’d thought them to be blood traitors only a few months earlier- something he’d now have to rethink he supposed. He remembered all the times he and his father had outright berated them in public. It was a surprise they were willing to allow him into their home.

 

He came down the dorm stairs after putting on some non-uniform clothes, looking over the edge of the railing into the commons. Harry and Hermione were already waiting in the main tower, reading a more recent edition of the Daily Prophet which had a large image of Sirius Black plastered on the front. He slowly descended the stairs and examined the paper, adjusting the bag of clothes he’d use while visiting.

 

“Do you only have blazers and button ups and all that?” Harry asked, pointing as he set the DP back on the table. “You look like you’re going to a magical dinner party.” He teased.

 

He flattened out his blazer, a little embarrassed, despite knowing it was a joke. “It’s all I packed- we’ve had this conversation before you ass.” He had to admit, he looked a lot more.. Expensive than the two. They were wearing jackets and hoodies and normal muggle clothing- whereas he was wearing what he could only describe as fairly traditional modern wizard’s clothes.

 

“Well you can’t walk around London wearing  _ that _ .” Hermione laughed. “They’d spot you from a mile away thinking you’re some sort of maniac.” She adjusted her own bag.

 

Draco only continued towards the exit of the commons, chuckling a little. “Well it’s not like I’ve got any other choices, if I ditch the blazer I’m sure I’ll blend into the  _ muggle crowd _ .” He wasn’t sure how he felt, going to  _ London _ of all places, in the middle of a Muggle neighborhood no less, but it was a new experience. “Muggles wear button ups, right?” He looked back at the two.

 

They followed, the three of them slowly making their way down the corridor. “I suppose, yeah. Aren’t you going to get cold in  _ just _ a dress shirt though?” She asked. “Maybe Harry has an extra jacket you can borrow, you two are pretty much the same size, right?” Her glance went from Harry to Draco, then back to Harry.

“Think so, if you’re okay with that. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, the train rides are usually pretty long- and the cars aren’t exactly  _ insulated _ to perfection.” Harry laughed, reaching for his bag.

 

_ Muggle clothing, a hoodie no less. _ Draco wasn’t sure how to respond. Though, going to London would mean he’d have to fit in, no use in getting stared at on holiday- or being sick. Not like his mother was going to find out. “Alright. Fine. Sure, but only because I’d rather  _ not _ be stared at by a bunch of stupid muggles on the way there.” Harry threw him a maroon-ish jacket, which he tucked under his arm to put on once they were on the train.

 

The train ride was a nice one, the morning sun peeking into the windows as the three sat down, talking about whatever it is they wanted to talk about. Draco was just relieved to be out of the castle for once, it was a rather terrible place to be as it currently stood. He had since then discarded the blazer into his bag, and put on the jacket which fit him quite well. It was warm, if not a little odd to him.

The ride made him feel like a kid again, buying trolley snacks and laughing like he was a first year, he had a slight sense of deja vu when they first sat down, reminding him of the beginning of the year when they all seemed so hostile. It was rather different now, of course, as they sat making fun of each other and talking about the DA.

 

When they eventually arrived at Kings Cross station, where they met with Ron and Mrs Weasley, who’d been waiting on the platform for them. “Nice jacket, Draco.” Ron immediately said upon their reunitting. 

“Yeah yeah, thank a certain Potter for that one.” He responded just a little more sharp than he probably meant. He was thankful for it though, since the cold weather was pretty terrible. He then dipped his head to Mrs. Weasley and introduced himself, a little more awkward in that regard, given how rude he’d been to her before.

After their short exchange, they took a short walk down the streets of London. Draco was in an amount of awe at the complicated streets and cars, not really used to the muggle world. He was used to staying at his manor, or in other wizarding communities. He hardly traveled outside of them. Eventually, after letting the cold wind beat at their faces for almost a half hour, they came across a rather normal looking complex of muggle homes.    
  


“I didn’t think a long line of purebloods would be living out here.” Draco commented rather flatly, wanting to get out of the freezing weather. “I thought you all lived in..” He stopped before saying something rude, wanting to stay respectful. “... the country.” He finished.

 

“Ah, this isn’t our home.” Mrs Weasley said, clasping her hands together. “We live near Devon, in the rurals, yes. This is a… holiday home.” She tapped her heel against the stones on the pavement as she concluded and the building began to shift, opening up an entirely new section of the dark grey complex. Draco was mildly surprised at the impressive magic- be he felt as if he’d heard of a place like it before.

 

When the shuffled inside, the warm air hit him and he sighed, letting his bag drop on his arm a little. The house was filled with a cacophony he wasn’t expecting- talking and footsteps and crackling and little chimes and whistles. Christmas decorations strung the small hall, the sound of a pot whistling in the background as the group slowly made their way through the small entrance hall.

 

“Welcome to headquarters.” Ron said, smirking.

“Headquarters?” Draco repeated, following them further into the hall, noticing a group of adults behind a half-shut door talking. “What do you mean?”

“Nevermind that for now.” Mrs Weasley interjected. “Let’s get you settled into the room, yes?” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, smiling. He nodded, a little overwhelmed. She waved the three off and they went up the stairs themselves, catching up with Ron. “You’ll be in the same room as the boys, of course. We had to rearrange the room just yesterday to fit a third bed in there.” She laughed. “Kitchen to your left, dining room straight ahead but don’t go in there unless the door is open.” She pointed around. “The room is second floor, first to your right.” 

 

“Yes, um. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” He said awkwardly, offering her a thankful smile. “I was surprised you’d even be okay with me staying, if I’m being honest.” He wrung his hands, looking a little guilty. “I wasn’t exactly the… greatest of people at the times we met before.” He still wasn’t, but he felt he was a little better because of those three.

 

“No worries at all. Ron speaks highly of you, and I trusted his judgement. He told me about your father.” She got a little quiet, knowing that he probably didn’t want to think about that at the time. “Please don’t feel bad, however. We’re happy to have you here.” Her warm smile made him feel a little better and he nodded. “Lunch in a bit, by the way. Tell those three the meeting will be done in a few.” 

 

He ascended the stairs, searching for the door she’d instructed him to, seeing a house elf at the end of a hall muttering to himself, which was a little off putting. He didn’t take the Weasleys for a house elf sort of family. He reached the door, hearing the three inside.

He opened the door, being met with a rather odd shaped room in which three beds really had been cramped into. The three looked at eachother, unsure of what to say. They looked like they’d just been in a heated conversation, something important. He sat his bag down on the bed which clearly hadn’t been claimed, a little unnerved.

 

“Are you three okay?” He asked, noticing their silence. “I mean- I’m sorry if I interrupted.” He added.

“Yeah, sorry. We’re just…” Hermione trailed off. “How should I put this?” She looked at the others. He looked down at the ground, waiting for any sort of reply. They murmured to each other. “Well, I don’t know if we’re supposed to say.” She added.

 

He nodded a short, slightly disappointed nod. “That’s okay. If you want I’ll just leave you guys to it. I’m sure there’s something I can do around here.” He was a little hurt at their secrecy, first the dark lord and the nightmares, and now whatever it is they’d just been speaking about. It was concerning- but it’s not like he was in any position to ask. “Your mother told me to tell you that the meeting would be done and lunch would be ready soon, by the way.”

 

As he made for the door, for a split second he heard Harry murmur something to the others.  **_“Padfoot.”_ ** He made out under his breath. He recalled the strange letter, and his head whipped back around. 

“What did you just say, Harry?” He quickly retracted his hand from the doorknob. “Padfoot, was it?” His voice was suddenly fast.  _ ‘So it is a real thing- and they knew about it too.’ _

“Ah- yes. It’s nothing.” He quickly responded.

Draco shook his head. “It must be something. I’ve heard it before.” He went back over to his bag, fishing out the letter which he’d decided to pack for whatever reason. The same strange one which had been encrypted with the instructions to present to Padfoot. “Who is padfoot?” He asked.

 

They looked at eachother, then to him. “He’s the one who own th’ house.” Ron said suddenly, to which the others sighed. 

Hermione was confused at the exchange. “Why would you ask ‘who?’” She asked suddenly. “I mean, what would make you think it’s a person.” She crossed her arms.

Draco held up the letter. “I’m to give this to him.” He said.

The three knew what it was- the look in their eyes told him they knew. It seemed there was another string of secrets he wasn’t aware of, but it seems like it was about to become clearer. Harry looked away. “He’s in the dining room right now, though the meeting should be done by now, like Mrs Weasley said.” He said.

 

Draco was about to find out just what was going on, and why he’d been carrying around this letter.

 

He approached the door, which had been slightly opened since before. He could see into the room a little, behind the door was a long wooden table in a vaulted room. There were Christmas decorations around and a fire was lit. The room was very warm in colour, and the table sat a number of people. Some he recognised from the ministry, others he’d never seen before.

He opened the door, clasping at the letter, and shut it behind him. The entire room seemed to freeze at his presence, as if he’d intruded. “My apologies.” He managed to get out.

 

“Draco Malfoy.” A man who sat at the end of the table with long black hair addressed him. “8th Generation in the Malfoy family, son of Lucius Malfoy.” He clasped his hands.

 

“Sirius Black?” Draco felt his stomach drop a little. Wasn’t he a murderer? The man waved the table off, the members who’d been sitting down, hunched over the table all got up, apparating out of the room with little time for Draco to say anything. “Are you… Padfoot?” He then asked, approaching the now-empty table.

The man leered for a second, noticing the letter which was scrunched up in Draco’s hand. “Is that for me?” He asked. Draco stayed silent, handing him the letter. He seemed to read it with ease, despite it being utter nonsense to him, and the dining room stayed silent, save for the crackling fire and the pots which bubbled in the kitchen.

 

“I hope I didn’t cut your meeting short- I just want answers, if I’m… um… being honest.” he got quieter with every word. This was a so-called mass murderer, just sitting there. 

 

“No worries, dear boy. The meeting was over. We were just wrapping up.” He put the letter on the table. “To make a very long story short, this letter is from Dumbledore. I think he knew you were going to be here for the holidays.”

 

Draco gulped. “What do you mean, exactly?” 

 

Sirius only gestured to a chair. “Sit down, won’t you? I promise I don’t bite.” He laughed. “You’re probably very confused right now, aren’t you?” His voice seemed genuine, and the day had turned to be a rather confusing one, so he complied. He pulled out the still wooden chair, sitting down rather nervously.

 

“What exactly is this place? Why are  _ you _ here? Ron called it Headquarters.” He started, leaning forward. “Ever since I was stuck with Harry and them, secrets keep surfacing up. I’m in no position to ask, but I’m so confused. What’s going on?” He felt like his mind was going a mile a minute suddenly, the prospect of having his questions answered made his voice go a little faster.

 

“You are aware of the Dark Lord, of course.” Sirius started. “His band of Death Eaters too, no less?” Draco nodded. He’d heard of them before, only briefly. “We’re like that, but for good. This is the HQ of the Order of the Phoenix.” He gestured to the space around them. “Dumbledore founded the order to fight against you-know-who. We watch his moves, plan our attacks, try to understand and protect people from him.”

 

Draco’s stomach seemed to drop even more.  _ ‘A secret society?’  _ He thought. Just what had he gotten himself into? “Are Harry and them apart of the Order?” He then asked.

“In a way, yes. But also no.” He replied. “Affiliates, right now.”

He looked down, tracing the patterns of the wood. “What does that letter say?” He pointed to it. “Why did I have it?”

 

Sirius picked up the letter, holding it up to the light. He pulled out a wand from his cuff and tapped it, and the words rearranged, forming a coherent pattern that Draco could understand. He handed the parchment to the blond and he looked over it, reading. It was a letter from Dumbledore, a permission… To let him in on the Order’s information. “What does it mean?” There was still a section too blurry for him to make out at the bottom.

 

“It means,” He started, sighing as he adjusted himself in the chair. “Dumbledore trusts you with this knowledge, about us.” He crossed his arms. “At a price, of course.” His voice remained relatively soft, despite the almost menacing association of his words.  “Now that we’ve revealed the Order to you… I have to ask something of you.”

Draco stayed silent, waiting for Sirius to continue. He felt himself sinking into the seat every second they sat there, leaning forward slightly in anticipation. He felt his anxieties rise from not knowing.

 

“We suspect from many trustworthy sources that your Father is a death eater.” He started. Draco already knew that his father had been in affiliation with the Dark Lord in the past, but it wasn’t something he cared to think about. “-an  _ active _ death eater.” He finished.

 

His breath hitched. “I mean. I knew he was… before.” He murmured. “But… now?” He tilted his head, unable to fully process the information he’d just been given. “What are you trying to ask?”

 

“We want you to be a spy for the Order.” Sirius said quite plainly. 

Draco thought for a moment, letting what he said sink in. ‘ _ Impossible. It can’t be. Father isn’t..’  _ He gulped. “How can you be so sure that he’s… Active?” He asked quietly.

 

“Our other spy is a high Ranking Death Eater who has recently worked with your father.” His voice seemed to falter just slightly. “The disappearances that have taken place recently could be contributed to by your father, along with the Dark Lord’s other faithful followers.”

Draco looked down. He wasn’t expecting to be thrown into anything remotely crazy like this- he thought it was going to be an enjoyable, if not  _ different, _ holiday. He couldn’t process it all at once. He had only just attempted to wrap his head around the Order itself existing, and the fact that everyone around him since his  _ stupid rehousing _ seemed to be apart of it.

 

“Let me get this straight.” He said, a headache starting to form from his confusion. “You want me to join this Order of the Phoenix and spy on my father, whom you claim is an active death eater?” He held back his voice and frowned a little, crossing his arms. “I really do think I’d like to help, the Order I mean, but I just can’t imagine doing that... _ without viable proof- _ besides the word of another spy.”

 

“Of course, that’s understandable.” Sirius’ tone went from a more serious one to a much softer approach and he looked away for a moment. “We won’t force you to, of course.” He smiled. “Your friends have spoken highly of you, in letters and such. I do believe you can still help, if you want of course.”

 

Draco felt embarrassed at the last remark and let out a sheepish chuckle. “An extra wand wouldn’t hurt, right?” He too, looked away. He wasn’t sure what he was about to get himself into, but seeing as everyone around him was already invested, he might as well put his own name into the hat.

 

After flattening out a few details, talking mostly about the Order and it’s members, he was dismissed. As soon as he left the quiet room, the rowdiness of the Weasley’s became eminent once more. Mrs Weasley immediately called the others down to set the table for lunch, the elder siblings aparated from place to place, much to the disdain of their mother. 

Draco found himself backing into an offset room subconsciously, feeling out of place and alienated at the sudden noise and bustle that the family had. He was already overwhelmed by all the new information he had, all the secrets he now knew, but this just topped it off for him.

The room he backed into was odd. The walls were covered in portraits, an entwining tree spread across the whole room. It was mostly empty, besides the wallpaper and dust, and was far more quiet than the rest of the house. It was a family tree, if he had to guess. He traced the branches with his fingers, moving down the lines until something caught his eyes- his grandfather. 

He hadn’t quite realised up until then that he was related to the Blacks- seeing his mother's face etched into the walls. He’d seemingly forgotten about his mother for the time being, given how he hadn’t seen her since before the rehousing. He felt a twinge of guilt settle in. 

 

He stared at his mother’s portrait for a long moment, hoping she was handling the news of his permanent rehousing alright. She was more forgiving than his father, but it still probably upset her. He then looked over at his own picture, rather strange one, at that.

 

He let out a long sigh.  _ What was he going to do now? What if his father was an active death eater? What was he willing to do for this order?  _ The questions swam in his mind, putting him in turmoil.

 

“Oi, no reason to be sulking.” A voice suddenly interjected. One he hadn’t really heard in awhile. He turned to see one of the twins at the door. “What’s holdin’ ya down, big man?” He said.

Draco looked around, as if confused by the encounter. He’d never really gotten the chance to talk to the twins before, not it great detail. He wasn’t even sure which one he was talking to. “Nothing much, just… confused. I suppose.” He laughed awkwardly.

 

The twin looked at the portraits on the wall, stopping when he came across Draco’s own. “Load of pish, what kinda hat is that?” He joked, making Draco laugh again. “Sirius did dump a lot on ya’ though, didn’t he?” 

Draco shrugged. “Yeah. I’m just… I don’t know what to do. What if my family really  _ is _ active with the Dark Lord?” He wasn’t really searching for answers with the brother, but it slipped out anyways.

 

He shrugged. “‘Dunno about you, but shouldn’t you fight for what you want?” He asked. “Like, I guess what’s most important to you right now?” He asked.

Draco shrugged. He wanted to say family, but inner confliction stopped him from saying it immediately. He was more concerned with the DA, it felt like- or his friends. But it felt wrong for him to say that too- because he’d always though family to be most important. He looked away.

 

“Well, ‘salright if you don’t have an answer, y’know?” He said. “So long as you know it in there.” He pointed to Dracos head. “Then you should know what you need to do, or where you gotta go.” He smiled. 

“I suppose, yes.” Draco murmured. “Thanks… um.” He trailed off, embarrassed he didn’t know if he was talking to Fred or George.

“Fred.” He answered, smirking. “You’ll be able to tell cos’ I’m the smarter one.” 

Draco laughed again, feeling a little better. “Well alright, thanks Fred. I’ll think more on it.”

 

Mrs Weasley popped her head into the room as he said this. “Oi, you two. Lunch.” She demanded. “And don’t you dare aparate Fred, or so help me.” Her voice was muffled in the other room and Fred mumbled under his breath, stomping out to the dining room. 

 

Draco was conflicted, confused. There was an inner turmoil in his mind he couldn’t quite shake. He didn’t know what to do. What if his father was an active death eater. If he was technically an affiliate of the Order- would he have to go against his father? Would he have to fight him?

It scared him to think about it. He’d always been told family was most important, but it felt like he now needed to figure out where his loyalties truly laid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update, surprise!
> 
> The holidays chapter used to be one, but this became so long I decided to split it up into 2 separate chapters.  
> I hope you guys enjoyed this one!
> 
> I wanted to give them a more satire/making fun of eachother dynamic so they've been getting more sassy as chapters continue to be updated.  
> Expect the next chapter soon, however I will have to write most of it from scratch so it might take longer than expected. Stay tuned!  
> ps the fact that hes wearing harry's jacket for like most of this chapter his killing me guys its KILLING ME!!!!!


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